


Need

by ConesOfDunshire



Series: And When It's Done We Will Walk Where the Road Meets the Sun [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bartender Terushima, Casual Sex, Escort/Artist Kuroo, Except it doesn't stay casual, It never does, Kuroo is self-destructive, M/M, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Minor Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Minor Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, Minor Semi Eita/Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Pining, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 41,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7673326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConesOfDunshire/pseuds/ConesOfDunshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kuroo Tetsurou doesn't believe in true love and Terushima Yuuji isn't interested in convincing him. What begins as a casual fling in a bar bathroom starts to grow into something more and leaves Kuroo with a series of existential crises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I couldn't resist. Here's the Kuroteru spinoff of Rules. No need to have read Rules first though, you'll understand everything just fine. Enjoy!

The atmosphere inside The Liquor Mortis was one that Kuroo had learned to love. He’d been to his fair share of bars, and he had to admit he liked this one the best. He’d taken clients to some where the music was too loud, where the crowds were too unruly, where the lights were too dim—and one unfortunate place with a strobe light that had him seeing stars for two days. But this place was always a little mellower. They didn’t skimp on the alcohol. And he could hear the people with him when they spoke.

Well, except for tonight. He was having a hard time listening to the woman across from him tonight.

All because of the blond behind the bar.

And he was quite a sight. He was slim, evidenced by the thin v-neck and tight jeans he wore. His bleached undercut was slicked back, revealing more earrings than Kuroo had ever seen on one person. His ears practically glowed in the warm light. Those brown eyes might have looked plain on anyone else. But Kuroo could see the way his brain worked behind them, taking in the entire room with a single flick.

And for a while now, those eyes had been focused solely on Kuroo.

He’d thought it was a bit peculiar at first, but hey, the bartender was hot. Even if he hadn’t been staring, Kuroo still would’ve noticed him. That hair really stole your attention. And his ass _did_ look good in those pants.

After giving him a knowing smirk and a wink, Kuroo managed to return his attention to the client sitting across from him. She had been the one to pick the bar, to his great surprise. She was classically pretty—long dark hair and dark eyes to match. As she sipped at her Long Island, she told him all about her job as a marketing exec, how stressful her week had been, how happy she was just to let loose and relax. Her foot was tapping against Kuroo’s beneath the table.

It had only been about 30 minutes, and already Kuroo had filed away little things about her to remember later. She was 31, single, no kids. Originally from Osaka. A well-known marketing executive at her advertising agency, moving up the ladder remarkably quickly. She’d make partner soon. Long Islands were her favorite. Her lips looked nice as they closed around the straw.

But a glance over at the bar made Kuroo’s mind go blank. Those almond eyes were practically boring holes though him, the intensity of the stare making him forget even his own name. They seemed to be sizing Kuroo up. He felt like a piece of meat under their scrutiny. The blond might as well be circling him in a desert.

Still, they were nice eyes—eyes Kuroo didn’t mind watching him. He wanted those eyes to keep watching him, to keep investigating him. He liked being invaded by them.

“Tetsurou?”

Kuroo started, tearing his gaze away from the penetrative stare of the man at the bar. The woman across from him looked irritated. “Did you hear me?” she asked.

“Of course I did,” Kuroo replied, leaning forward, propping his chin up in his palm. A lazy grin spread over his face. “The merger with LMedia.”

That seemed to content her, the furrow of her brow relaxing. “It was a _nightmare_ ,” she groaned. “We’re almost all digital, and yet for some reason, we joined up with a company whose creative director is about 600 hundred years old and thinks computers are the devil’s instruments.”

“It’s a wonder they’ve survived this long with someone like that at the helm,” Kuroo noted. His foot was tapping against hers now.

She seemed to like that, judging by the way her teeth were tugging at her bottom lip. “Our creative director is a miracle worker, thank god,” she went on. “He somehow managed to convince this ancient gargoyle that we’re not summoning demons with our laptops. Actually I think we might have him inching toward retirement. That’s the dream at least. I know we can’t force him, but gentle coercion is different. It’s like…”

Fuck, Kuroo wasn’t listening to her anymore. His gaze tilted to the right, locking in on the brown eyes once more. The bartender was pouring a round of shots. How was he still staring so intently at Kuroo? He didn’t even overfill any of the glasses.

No, Kuroo had to focus on his client. This time, she hadn’t noticed his attention slipping. She was talking about another associate, one who liked to flirt with her. Probably an attempt to make Kuroo more interested. He’d seen it before. He added this to the list. _Flirty coworker._ She was 31, single, no kids, originally from Osaka, a well known… Shit, a well known what?

Crap, he was looking at the bartender again. When had he looked away from… Oh god, what even was her name? It sounded like her job, that’s how he’d remembered it at first. M… M… Marketing. Miyuki from Marketing. That was it.

Miyuki from Marketing was sucking down the last of her drink, the crackling of the air in the straw pulling Kuroo’s attention from the bar once more. Thankfully, she seemed to be staring into the glass rather than at him.

He threw back the last of his whisky, then leaned forward and plucked the glass from her hands. “Another drink?” he asked.

Miyuki from Marketing looked at him with a lopsided grin, a single eyebrow quirked. “Trying to get me drunk, Tetsurou?”

“It _is_ Friday after all, Miyuki,” he replied. “Live a little.”

He left her with a wink, and as he turned away, he heard that little breath, the exhale, the one that told him the client was hooked. If she was like all the others, this was going to be a late night for him.

But he couldn’t think about any of that right now. Not when those brown eyes were watching his every step. He tried to straighten up a little taller, walk a little surer. The sharp snap of those eyes up to his told Kuroo that the blond had noticed. And the small quirk of his mouth was almost louder than if he’d laughed. Kuroo felt like an idiot.

“Another Nikka on the rocks, and… A Long Island for your companion?” the blond asked as Kuroo thunked the glasses onto the counter. He glanced quickly at the table, then back at Kuroo. A single brow rose in consternation. “Interesting.”

Kuroo was taken aback. “Interesting?” he repeated. “And what’s so interesting?”

The bartender was already on the move, grabbing two new glasses, adding the ice, and dipping beneath the counter for the bottles. “Well,” he began, pouring alcohol into the glasses. “Last time she was in here, she ordered a Manhattan. And before that was a Sex on the Beach. I think she might be trying to run her way through all the stereotypically American drinks.”

This made Kuroo smile—a conversation piece he could latch on to. He dropped his elbow onto the counter and leaned his weight against it. “So she’s been in here before, huh?”

“Well, let’s see,” the bartender hummed, pouring the tequila, the gin, the vodka, the rum, all like he was performing an art. “There was the one with the lazy eyes and the messy hair… Well, not quite as messy as yours. Tussled, I suppose. She practically felt him up under the table. Then the time before that was the red head. She didn’t seem to like him as much right away. But by the third drink, she was in his lap. And judging by how familiar she was with the bar, I can only assume she’d been here before that.”

“Well that certainly is interesting,” Kuroo noted. “I should probably be a little heartbroken at this revelation, shouldn’t I?”

“Sure,” the bartender nodded, adding the cola and the lemon juice to the glass. “If you were even remotely interested in her.”

“Oho, and what makes you think I’m not interested?” Kuroo asked, leaning forward a bit. “Miyuki from Marketing is lovely. You know she’s going to make partner soon?”

The bartender garnished the drink with a lemon, then slid the glasses across the counter toward Kuroo. He didn’t pull back either. Those brown eyes glinted with mischief as they met Kuroo’s again. “You know you’re not the least bit convincing, right?” he asked.

Kuroo had to bite his tongue to keep it from lolling out of his mouth. He was sizing up the bartender now, scanning over his eyes, his nose, his lips, his throat, the tips of his collarbones poking out from beneath the v-neck. God, he even had nice collarbones.

“You know,” Kuroo said, leaning marginally closer, close enough to see the pores in the bartender’s face, “I usually manage to put up a convincing enough front when someone isn’t eye fucking me from across the bar.”

An impish grin spread across the bartender’s face. He looked like a cat, slinking across the counter, closing the distance between himself and Kuroo. They were so close now, faces millimeters from one another. “What can I say?” he asked seductively. “I know what I like.”

“Fuck,” Kuroo whispered before he could control himself.

“I’m Terushima Yuuji,” the bartender said.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” Kuroo replied, still trying to recover from the arousing confession of the man across from him. He could put on a seductive enough face when it came to the women—hell, even for most men too. But this one was a wild card. “You’re pretty forthcoming, aren’t you?”

“Why be withholding?” Terushima asked with a shrug. “Life’s too short.”

“With that mentality, this job will be pretty short too,” Kuroo noted.

At this, Terushima laughed. Kuroo liked watching him laugh. The quiet sound bubbled past his lips as he threw his head back, exposing his throat. Kuroo wanted to bite into it. He tried to push that thought down.

“I’m pretty sure my job is safe,” Terushima said, his voice a bit breathless from the last of his laughter. “Saeko loves me too much.”

Kuroo’s brow lifted in surprise, though his grin never faltered. “Now who’s the interesting one? I never thought Tanaka-san would be your type.”

“Judging a book by its cover?” Terushima asked.

“Just letting those jeans speak for themselves,” Kuroo corrected. At this distance, he could give Terushima a proper once over. They were so tight. Kuroo wondered if he’d even be able to fit his hand down them, if there was enough room to grip Terushima’s pert ass.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Terushima shrugged, making Kuroo’s gaze snap back up to his face. “She’s my cousin, I needed a job, it all worked out.”

“Lucky me,” Kuroo replied unthinkingly.

There was a flash of something in Terushima’s eyes. Kuroo was sure he could probably pinpoint exactly what it was, if he wasn’t so busy getting lost in them.

“I think your companion is waiting for her drink,” Terushima said.

That was enough to send Kuroo crashing back to reality. He had completely forgotten about her. Miyuki from Marketing. He glanced over his shoulder toward her. Oh, she didn’t look happy—if her deep scowl was anything to go by, at least.

“Fuck, alright, can you put these on my tab? I gotta… “ he trailed off. He took the drinks and turned away from Terushima—regrettably so—and headed back toward the table. Miyuki’s narrowed gaze followed him the whole way.

“Your drink,” Kuroo said as he set her glass down in front of her.

But she didn’t reach for it. In fact, she didn’t even look away from Kuroo as he sat down. “Do you know him?” she asked.

“Who?” Kuroo tried to play dumb.

She wasn’t falling for it, her face twisting into an even deeper scowl. “The bartender,” she said. “He looked like he wanted to eat you.”

Now he went for coy. “Well, can you blame him?”

Still not working. She was glaring hard now. “You looked like you wanted to be eaten.”

“Miyuki, I—“

“Look,” she cut him off. “If you’re not interested, I want to know now. Before I waste anymore of my time.”

Kuroo opened his mouth to retort, ready with a few of his well-practiced likes. _Of course I’m interested. How could I not be? You have my undivided attention._ But before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself distracted again.

The man he recognized as the assistant manager—the one who always looked a little too coifed and composed—was striding toward the bar purposefully. He took Terushima’s place behind the counter. Terushima said something over his shoulder and headed toward the back, disappearing down the hallway that Kuroo knew led to the bathrooms. He could have ignored Terushima, returned his attention to Miyuki from Marketing, maybe led her to another bar with fewer distractions.

But when Terushima looked back once more, searing Kuroo with his intense gaze, Kuroo lost all rational thought. He was rising to his feet again without even realizing that he was doing.

“Tetsurou!”

He managed a quick glance toward Miyuki, then back toward the hallway. Terushima was gone. It was time to make a decision. And his feet were carrying him away already.

“I gotta… Bathroom,” he managed.

He left Miyuki at the table, ignoring her protests and practically flying across the bar toward the bathrooms.

It didn’t come as a surprise when the bathroom door was unlocked, and Kuroo didn’t bother knocking as he let himself in. What _was_ surprising was being slammed against the wall. Hard. Next to him, the lock clicked shut. Terushima was strong for someone so slim. He had Kuroo pinned against the tile easily, his chest pressed flush against Kuroo’s.

Being this close to Terushima was making Kuroo’s brain go fuzzy. But he grasped at his last modicum of self-control as his mouth lifted into that knowing grin. “My companion doesn’t seem to like you very much,” he noted.

Terushima laughed again. This time he didn’t have to throw his head back. He was already staring up at Kuroo. “I don’t much care for her either,” Terushima said.

“Awwww, are you jealous?” Kuroo asked.

“Very.”

Oh. Kuroo hadn’t expected that. He also didn’t expect one of Terushima’s hands to crawl up his arm, around his neck, and into his hair. Thin fingers gripped his hair lightly, angling his neck down. Their faces were so close now. Closer than they were at the bar.

“You don’t hold anything back, do you?” Kuroo murmured. He felt like he needed to be quiet. Like talking too loudly would shatter the atmosphere and wake him up from this dream.

“I told you, I know what I want… Tetsurou,” Terushima breathed against Kuroo’s lips. He licked his own, taunting Kuroo, making him inhale sharply.

“And what is that, Yuuji?” Kuroo asked, doing his best to keep his breathing slow, even.

Despite how close they were, Terushima managed to slip a hand between them, fingers gliding down Kuroo’s stomach, the tips sliding into the waistband of his pants. He leaned up to press his lips to Kuroo’s ear. He was practically whispering, and still, Kuroo heard every word.

“I want to know what you taste like.”

“Fuck,” Kuroo groaned.

“Is that a yes?” Terushima asked, pulling back to peer up at Kuroo curiously.

Terushima’s fingers were creeping lower, dipping below Kuroo’s navel. Kuroo tried to speak, opened his mouth, closed it again when the words faltered. He watched Terushima drag his tongue painstakingly slowly over his top lip. God, Kuroo wanted to kiss him. “Do you frequently trick strangers into public bathrooms to suck their cocks?” he asked.

“Can I?” Terushima avoided the question. He was nothing if but persistent.

Kuroo wasn’t strong enough to fight it. And he didn’t really want to. “Like I could ever say no,” he managed.

Terushima snapped to action immediately. He was so quick, dropping to his knees and hitting the cool tiled floor with a quiet thud. The hand that was in Kuroo’s hair traveled down with him, trailing over Kuroo’s torso slowly to join the second at his waistband.

“You don’t waste any time,” Kuroo said. He knew he was repeating himself, but his brain seemed to be on autopilot now.

“We’ve been over that,” Terushima quipped. His fingers were deft as they unbuckled Kuroo’s belt. “I know what I want.”

“Yeah, I got that part,” Kuroo huffed.

Terushima was making quick work of Kuroo’s pants. Nothing seemed to be slow and steady with him. He tugged Kuroo’s zipper down, practically tore the button off, and yanked the pants down his thighs. His fingertips danced teasingly back up Kuroo’s legs, raising the skin beneath their touch. Kuroo couldn’t help but shake.

“Ticklish?” Terushima asked without looking up at him.

“Not usually,” Kuroo admitted.

Terushima just hummed in reply, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Kuroo’s thigh. This mouth was wet and open, tongue lapping against the muscle. And when hi bit down lightly, Kuroo could feel the skin twitch.

Now Terushima’s fingers were climbing again, back towards Kuroo’s hips. They dipped beneath the elastic of his boxers.

Kuroo waited. And waited.

But Terushima didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry. In fact, he seemed to be slowing down. His lips continued to explore the vast expanse of Kuroo’s left thigh as though he were trying to map it with his tongue. As soon as Kuroo managed to relax, Terushima’s teeth would sink into a muscle. His entire body would twitch in response.

It was after Terushima has moved on to the right thigh and thoroughly traversed the skin that Kuroo finally broke. “I’m all for foreplay, but isn’t this a little excessive?”

Slowly, Terushima’s gaze lifted, locking in on Kuroo’s once more. It was so intense, Kuroo almost had to look away.

“ _Someone_ seems to be enjoying the attention,” Terushima murmured. His eyes flicked down to Kuroo’s cock, straining angrily against the dark blue boxers, then back up. He was grinning again.

“ _Someone_ is irritated that he’s not getting any attention,” Kuroo countered.

“Poor thing,” Terushima cooed.

He finally broke eye contact, leaning forward to nuzzle his cheek against Kuroo’s aching cock. The sudden contact made Kuroo shudder. He had been too distracted by Terushima’s tongue to notice, but now it was painfully evident just how hard he was. Had that been Terushima’s goal all along?

Kuroo was about to ask, opening his mouth to speak, when suddenly Terushima’s hot mouth pressed against the side of his clothed cock. Kuroo hissed louder than he meant to. The blond sucked hard, mouthing at the fabric. He worked up Kuroo’s length, finally making his way to the head. When he suckled at the head, Kuroo could feel precum leaking against his boxers. And judging by Terushima’s quiet moan, he probably tasted it too.

It was to Kuroo’s great relief when finally, _finally_ , Terushima began to pull his boxers down. He actually sighed in contentment. Terushima slowed his pace, but still he tugged, working the fabric down Kuroo’s hips. He finally had to pull his mouth away to bring them down further. The elastic caught on Kuroo’s cock, and Terushima continued to pull, finally freeing the dripping length to the cool air. It sprang against Kuroo’s stomach with a quiet smack, leaving a trail of precum as it dropped down.

Terushima took in the sight before him with hungry eyes, tongue darting across his lips quickly. “Yum,” he purred.

“It gets the job done,” Kuroo said, defaulting to humor in the wake of Terushima’s ravenous gaze.

Terushima’s tongue darted out once more, dragging across his perfect pink lips. “It certainly does.”

And then Kuroo watched as Terushima leaned forward and wrapped those perfect lips around the head of his cock. Terushima moved down the shaft easily, his throat relaxing to accommodate the length. Kuroo’s fingers tightened into fists in Terushima’s hair as the blond pulled back, then dropped back down. Up and down he bobbed, cheeks hollowing out as he pulled back.

The sensation had Kuroo reeling. He threw his head back against the cool tile wall. “Fuck,” he groaned. His hands clenched harder with every bob of Terushima’s head. “Fuck, you’re… You’re really good at this.”

Terushima hummed again, and Kuroo could feel the jolt climb up his spine. His hips lurched forward, pushing his cock further down Terushima’s throat. He definitely hadn’t meant to do that. But Terushima’s throat relaxed even more, and then his lips were pressed against the base of Kuroo’s cock, taking the length with ease.

Kuroo released a choked moan that echoed off the bathroom walls. Terushima’s throat was flexing now, and Kuroo felt like climbing out of his own skin. His hurried groan of “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” echoed loudly around him. It seemed like an eternity before Terushima finally pulled back, releasing Kuroo’s cock with a soft pop.

“You’re about as composed as I imagined you’d be,” Terushima murmured, his hand replacing his mouth around Kuroo’s length.

“What does— _ahhh_ ,” he was cut off abruptly as Terushima leaned forward again, this time sucking on Kuroo’s balls. His hand pumped up and down in an even rhythm. Kuroo could already feel the pressure building in his stomach.

“It means,” Terushima mumbled, coming up for air once more, “the whole hot-shot act really is just an act.”

“And you know all that from— _hng_ —from putting my cock in your mouth?” Kuroo asked, trying to ignore just how good it felt when Terushima dragged his thumb over the slit.

“Partially,” Terushima conceded. He leaned forward and licked the tip of Kuroo’s cock. Kuroo couldn’t stop the tremble that worked through his body at the contact. This made Terushima grin again. “You unravel too easily,” he continued. “You’re already close, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine,” Kuroo huffed.

It was far from the truth, and Kuroo knew it. Evidently, Terushima did too—at least by that infuriating grin that was stretching wider across his face. The pace of his hand quickened, and Kuroo made a frantic grab for his wrist.

“Fine, shit, stop,” he hissed. His other hand wrapped around the base of his cock to keep himself from cumming. It was a moment before he collected himself enough to speak again. “Okay, fine. I don’t let strangers casually blow me all the time. So sue me.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Terushima cooed.

“Also you’re really fucking good at this,” Kuroo groaned as Terushima’s hand returned to work.

“Believe it or not, I’ve heard that before,” Terushima laughed.

And then his mouth was occupied once more, sucking on the tip of Kuroo’s cock. His tongue swirled around it, and then that tiny stud was gliding through the slit.

Kuroo’s hips bucked again, and Terushima took the hint. Up and down his head bobbed, throat clenching and unclenching, cheeks hollowing with every drag backwards. Kuroo’s hands slid through Terushima’s hair and gripped hard. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Terushima to speed up or slow down. But it didn’t really matter. Terushima seemed to have made up his mind.

A tingling heat crawled up Kuroo’s spine as Terushima bobbed faster. His legs shook beneath him. He couldn’t help the harassed sounds escaping from his lips now, echoing off the tile and filling the room.

“Shit… Fuck, I’m gonna… You gotta,” Kuroo grunted.

But Terushima had no intention of pulling back. He peered up at Kuroo with those brown eyes and somehow, Kuroo understood what they were asking.

“Fuck, I’m gonna… _Yuuji_!”

If Kuroo had even retained a sliver of self-control, he would’ve controlled the volume of his voice. But the last of it had disappeared when Terushima had taken him into that warm, wet mouth. His shouts of Terushima’s name were probably loud enough to hear from down the hall.

And then he was cumming hard, back arching off the wall, stars springing into his vision. His fingers were almost numb as they dug into Terushima’s scalp. He could feel thick spurts of cum hitting the back of Terushima’s throat. And, like a champ, the blond took it all.

Once Terushima had sucked him dry, Kuroo pushed gently at his head. “Fuck, okay, shit, okay,” Kuroo mumbled. “You gotta stop, I can’t… It’s too much.”

Another wet pop sounded as Terushima released Kuroo’s softening cock. “So sensitive,” he teased.

Kuroo realized his eyes were pressed shut. He cracked them open and peered down at Terushima, who was still on his knees. He licked his lips again as he peered up at Kuroo. They were pink and swollen from the friction, slick with spit and cum. God, Kuroo wanted to bite them. He wanted to suck on that bottom lip, that devilish tongue.

He wanted to find out what made Terushima unravel.

“That was awesome,” Kuroo murmured. And then he immediately regretted opening his mouth. He could not have sounded more like an idiot.

But if Terushima noticed, he didn’t bring it up. “Glad you approve,” he replied. He rocked back onto his heels, then stood up, stretching his arms over my head. “I’ve got sex hair now, don’t I?” he asked.

Kuroo winced, nodded. “Little bit.”

Terushima turned to the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair, returning it to its rightful coif. But Kuroo didn’t miss the grimace that crossed his face.

Ah. That was his fault.

“Sorry I pulled so hard.”

“It’s okay,” Terushima replied, throwing a coy glance over his shoulder. “I liked it.”

“Well, the least I can do is return the favor,” Kuroo suggested as he reached down to pull his pants back up. “For the hair pulling. And the…”

“The most mind-blowing blowjob of your life?” Terushima finished for him.

“Yeah, that.”

“I’m good,” Terushima waved him off as he straightened his outfit. “Besides, it would be rude to keep your companion waiting. I assume she paid a pretty penny for you.”

Kuroo was halfway through buckling his belt when his hands stalled. He looked up at Terushima slowly. “You knew?” he asked.

Terushima laughed so loud it echoed even against the cool walls of the bathroom. “The redhead let it slip when he was here with her,” he replied. “And you confirmed it for me.”

“Of course,” Kuroo rolled his eyes, returned to maneuvering his belt.

Terushima examined himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair once more for good measure. When he was satisfied with the result, he turned and unbolted the door. “Enjoy your evening… Tetsurou,” he practically purred over his shoulder.

And then, he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him.

Kuroo was glad for a moment alone. He splashed some cool water on his face, took a few deep breaths, carded a hand roughly through his hair. The reflection in the mirror above the sink looked thoroughly bewildered. That definitely wasn’t how he needed to look coming back from the bathroom.

Like he’d just experienced the most mind-blowing blowjob of his life.

“Fuck,” he sighed, gripping the side of the sink hard.

It took a few more minutes and another splash of cold water before he could finally abandon the bathroom and return to the bar. The assistant manager was still behind the bar, looking like the stick up his ass had been wedged further into oblivion. Terushima still hadn’t come back. Maybe he was gone.

Kuroo had to focus. He’d kept Miyuki from Marketing waiting for twenty minutes. And even better, he hadn’t thought of a good excuse. She was probably going to be furious with him. She might even toss her drink in his face. And maybe, just maybe, she…

Oh, she was gone.

Seated at their previously occupied table were four girls—none of whom appeared to be over the age of twenty. They spotted Kuroo gaping at them and started giggling behind their hands.

He slid a hand down his face and murmured into his palm the first thing that came to mind.

“Fuck.”

 

* * *

 

Kuroo had lain in his bed the next day and contemplated quitting his job, becoming a recluse, living off the land for a few years until things settled down at work. That would all be a lot easier than dealing with his boss’s wrath. He was sure Miyuki from Marketing would complain about him and probably ask for her money back—rightly so, considering Kuroo had essentially abandoned her.

But that was only part of Kuroo’s agony. When he wasn’t thinking about the disaster that would come later that night, he was thinking about Terushima. About the ridiculous bleached undercut. About those ridiculous piercings. About how good he looked in those tight jeans. About those pretty pink lips wrapping around his cock.

There was a chance he’d jerked off to the memory in the shower.

Still, it was more than that. Sure, the blowjob had been amazing. Life changing, even. But the strangest part was that Terushima hadn’t wanted anything in return. What had he gained from dropping to his knees and sucking Kuroo off? Probably not a checkmark to his good deed list.

The idea bothered Kuroo his entire drive to the agency, and was only pushed to the back of his mind when he opened the front door of the building and was greeted by an intimidating and _extremely_ angry Semi Eita.

“Office,” he commanded, jabbing his finger toward the door to his right. “Now.”

Semi’s office was just off the entrance to the building, stark white walls making you feel like you were in a padded cell. All that was missing was the flickering light bulb and straightjacket.  The location and awful décor made it the perfect setting for accosting people as they walked through the front door. It was sort of Semi’s signature move. Usually Tendou was the one being dragged inside. But tonight, Kuroo had the honor.

The door had barely closed behind him when Semi turned, bearing down on Kuroo with pure venom in his eyes. He was shorter than Kuroo, and still managed to maintain that terrifying air.

“What the hell?” Semi asked without any preamble.

“I probably won’t know what this is about until you tell me,” Kuroo said, opting for the playing dumb route.

It worked about as well on Semi as it had on Miyuki. Kuroo thought he might’ve even heard Semi growl.

“You know _exactly_ what I’m talking about,” Semi countered. “So I’ll say it again. What. The. Hell.”

“What if I told you that I was held at gunpoint in the bathroom?” Kuroo tried.

“I’d ask where the fucking bullet hole was that kept you from doing your goddamn job,” Semi said, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest.

Kuroo’s mouth twisted in thought. “Okay, so not gunpoint. Probably not knifepoint either, I’m guessing… Muggings in general are likely out of the question…”

Semi’s extremely limited patience seemed to snap, his hands going airborne. “Fucking hell, Kuroo, just tell me why you kept your client waiting for FORTY GOD DAMN MINUTES before she finally took off!”

“Okay, it was _definitely_ not forty,” Kuroo argued. “Twenty-five at most.”

“TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES IS TOO MANY!” Semi exclaimed.

“Yeah, I know, and I literally don’t even have a good reason for it,” Kuroo conceded. “I’m sorry, it’s not gonna happen again.”

Semi was still glowering, though his temper seemed to be cooling off, even if only by a few degrees. “I had to refund her money, and you can bet your ass it’s coming out of your check.”

“Yeah, I figured that was coming,” Kuroo nodded. “Punishment fits the crime. Anything else?”

“Janitorial duty for a month.”

“Okay, pause,” Kuroo cut in, raising a hand for emphasis. “Restitutions will be made monetarily, why would you make me clean up after those nasty asses?”

“You’re the nastiest ass,” Semi retorted. “It’s literally all your messes you’ll be cleaning up.”

“Correction,”Kuroo scoffed. “Tendou is the nastiest ass.”

Semi snorted, and even though he wasn’t smiling, Kuroo could tell his mood had lifted somewhat. “Fair point. But I still want a punitive punishment. The rest of the week then.”

Kuroo threw his head back and groaned at the ceiling. “Fine,” he huffed. “The rest of the week.”

“Good, now get the hell out of my office.”

Kuroo was glad to leave the stuffy beige room behind him and head for the back. When they weren’t entertaining on site, that was where they relaxed before meeting the clients. He was sure everyone else was already there, and hopefully they’d been there for a good long while—long enough to have missed the verbal lashing, at least.

Matsukawa, who was lounging across one of the couches against the far wall, was the first to see him. He rose a hand in greeting and grinned lazily. “The prodigal son returns!” he called.

“I’m older than you,” Kuroo retorted.

“Well, you’re _someone’s_ son,” Hanamaki countered from his spot at the end of the couch. “I bet your mom thinks you’re cool.”

“Joke’s on you, he doesn’t even have a mom!” the redhead draped across one of the armchairs piped up.

“Tendou, how the fuck do you even know that?” Hanamaki asked.

“Do you have a mom?” Tendou asked, craning his neck to look back at Kuroo.

“Yes,” Kuroo snapped.

Tendou snorted. “He’s totally lying. I was so right.”

“How do you do that?” Matsukawa asked lazily.

“Intuition,” Tenou replied, tapping his forehead with his index finger. “The ladies like to call me The Guess Monster.”

At this, Ushijima straightened up in his chair on the other side of the room. “I was under the impression that most women called you ‘Tall Hair’.”

The room erupted in uproarious laughter. Even Tendou was snorting—only because he knew it was true.

“So, I take it you didn’t get fired,” Hanamaki said once the booming died down. “Is Semi making you do lines?”

“’I will not abandon a client for a booty call,’” Matsukawa recited.

Okay, maybe the fact that they had been here for a while wasn’t the best thing.

“Who said it was a booty call?” Kuroo asked, pulling up a hard-backed chair from one of the nearby tables and dropping into it heavily.

“She did,” four voices crooned back at him.

“And Semi’s been rage-mumbling about it all afternoon,” Tendou added.

“Wait, why have you been here all afternoon?” Kuroo asked, eyes narrowing on the redhead.

“Important client matters to tend to,” Tendou replied without missing a beat. “Right, Toshi?”

Across from him, Ushijima tipped his head forward in a nod. “Important client matters,” he repeated.

“Okay, not suspicious at all,” Hanamaki grumbled.

“But seriously, was it at least worth it?” Matsukawa asked.

“And don’t bother lying, we _know_ it was a booty call,” Hanamaki pressed. “So dish.”

Kuroo mulled it over for a moment. He could at least give them an overview. Hell, Matsukawa and Hanamaki talked about their relationship enough. With a resolute nod, he decided to divulge.

“So it was definitely not planned,” he began. “Miyuki from Marketing picked the bar. And I ended up in the bathroom with someone else.”

“How could you even see anyone else in the bar?” Matsukawa asked. “She did a pretty thorough job of obstructing my vision while we were there.”

“Well, we didn’t get that far before I was… Distracted,” Kuroo mumbled.

“Was it at least good?” Hanamaki asked.

Kuroo threw his head back, raised his hands skyward. “Legendary,” he sighed.

Matsukawa chuckled. “I’m sure Semi liked that.”

“Are you kidding? I didn’t tell him any of that, I don’t want to die,” Kuroo scoffed.

“Good call,” Matsukawa nodded gravely.

“Okay, so if it was legendary, why did we have to pry it out of you?” Tendou asked. “Wear that one night stand like a badge of honor.”

“Yeah, that’s fine, but… I don’t know if I can rightfully call it a one night stand,” Kuroo said.

“Awwww, you worried it doesn’t count cause you didn’t go all the way?” Tendou teased.

Kuroo shot him a glare. “This isn’t middle school, I’m not agonizing over what base we got to.”

“So what’s the problem?” Hanamaki asked.

Kuroo’s glare shifted from frustrated to confused. “Why would someone give you a blowjob and only care about your… pleasure?”

He hadn’t expected Tendou to laugh, that’s for sure. And yet, it was happening.

“Dude,” Tendou huffed, “that’s literally our entire job.”

“That is _not_ your entire job, your job is to make the clients happy.”

The voice at the doorway made every head in the room turn. Semi didn’t look as murderous as before, but he still didn’t look pleased. Then again, did he ever?

“And what do you think _makes_ the women happy?” Tendou countered, sitting up a little straighter.

“We are an ethical business offering social and conversational company to the men and women who seek it. Should you decide to engage in intimate relations with a client—“

“—it will be on our time and our dime. We know the line,” Tendou finished. Suddenly, his face lit up in a knowing smile, and he leaned forward in his chair. “Awwwww, Eita, are you jealous? You know I can make you happy too.”

“A night with a cattle prod sounds more pleasurable,” Semi countered with a look of disgust.

“Wait a minute,” Hanamaki interrupted, his attention locked in on Kuroo. “I think the more important question is… Have you never gone down on anyone before?”

“What a selfish lover,” Matsukawa tisked.

“Tell me you’ve at least gone all the way once,” Tendou added.

“Jesus _Christ_ , that’s not what I meant!” Kuroo exclaimed. “Why would someone want to do it and not get something in return?”

Before anyone else could speak, Ushijima cut in once more. “True love.”

There was a beat of silence. And then, the room exploded with shouts of laughter once more. Whether or not he’d meant it as a joke, they all thought it was hilarious. Kuroo especially.

Maybe the job had made him cynical. Maybe it was the menagerie of bad relationships that littered his past. Or maybe it was seeing his dad have to carry on in a world without his mom, kneeling in front of her shrine every night and talking to her like she was still there. Whatever the reason, Kuroo wasn’t sure if he could even believe in true love. Why would someone want to depend on another person like that—rest their happiness on the laurels of another human being when it was so easy to be let down by them?

“Yeah,” Kuroo chuckled as the din of laughter died down once more. “Definitely not true love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thewiselearnfromhistory.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

It was with staunch resolution that Kuroo decided to stay away from the Liquor Mortis for a while. Of course it was one of his favorite bars in the city. Of course it was where he’d been given the best blowjob of his life. Of course he wanted to see Terushima again, to watch that sinful tongue dart over those pretty pink lips and imagine how it would feel to have that nice ass in his lap. Of course he wanted to ask Terushima what it had meant, why he’d wanted nothing in return.

And that was exactly why Kuroo had to stay away.

Terushima was dangerous. Kuroo found himself consumed with thoughts of the blond, from the most innocent to the most perverse. Sitting at a stoplight turned into wondering what his favorite food was. Doing laundry morphed into imagining Terushima bent over the washing machine. And going to sleep at night was the worst. Kuroo’s imagination ran wild, keeping him from a restful sleep and leaving him hard and wanting.

It was best just to keep a distance, let himself grow away from Terushima organically.

For a while, that was easy enough. Kuroo’s next client after Miyuki from Marketing was young and shy, more conducive for a trip to a café and walk at the park than a bar. She’d booked him to attend a wedding with her, quietly admitting to him that she just wanted her family to stop asking her if she was seeing anyone. And then she booked him again after that for a date. She quickly became a regular, and she kept Kuroo plenty busy.

But by the fourth week, Kuroo was struggling. His sweet, shy client had starting splitting her time between himself and Matsukawa—a common enough occurrence when it came to the two of them. This left him with more free time, and he began taking the long way home from the agency just to pass by the bar.

And then came the dream. Evidently pushing Terushima to the back of his mind hadn’t been the best solution. Kuroo wasn’t sure how long it lasted, it might’ve gone on the entire night. It was long enough at least to explore Terushima’s entire body, taste every inch of his skin, watch Terushima climb on top of him and ride him until Kuroo’s name was the only thing on those gorgeous lips.

He woke up the next morning with boxers saturated in cum and a burning desire to see Terushima in the flesh once more.

So that night, when his date with the shy debutante was over, Kuroo returned his car to his apartment and made the short walk back to the Liquor Mortis.

Walking inside, Kuroo was greeted with the smell of sweet liquor and old tobacco. It always made him want a whisky and a cigarette. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pack as he approached the counter.

It wasn’t Terushima behind the bar tonight, though this guy also had bleached hair. Maybe that was a job requirement. But unlike Terushima, this one seemed to be wearing a thick layer of eyeliner and looked like he was itching to fight someone. He watched Kuroo approach with the most disdainful look on his face.

“Damn, do I smell?” Kuroo asked as he propped himself up on a bench.

“What?” the bartender grunted.

Ah. Must just be his face then.

Kuroo waved him off. “Never mind. A Nikka on the rocks, if you don’t mind.”

The man grunted again and disappeared beneath the bar to grab a glass. Kuroo pulled a cigarette from the carton and put it between his lips. He was just lighting it when the bartender reappeared with a glass and ice in it. If it was possible, he glared even harder.

“Problem?” Kuroo asked, the cigarette hanging limp from his mouth.

“That shit’s nasty,” the bartender mumbled, pouring the whisky into the glass.

Kuroo pulled the cigarette from his lips and blew his puff of smoke off to the side. “You’re a bartender and you don’t smoke? That’s like being a cop who doesn’t like donuts.”

“I don’t like those either.”

Kuroo snorted as the bartender passed him his drink. He was wearing one of those cheap stick-on nametags on his chest. It said, “Hello my name is: Kyoutani. I don’t look helpful.” The “Kyoutani” looked like a third-grader had written it, while the “I don’t look helpful” part looked like it had been printed by the steadiest of hands.

“Well, Kyoutani the unhelpful-looking bartender, you defy the odds, don’t you?” Kuroo teased.

Kyoutani just grunted again—it seemed to be his favorite form of communication. Kuroo laughed as he sipped his whisky. There were only two other people at the bar, a man all the way at the end who was very obviously sleeping and another who was starting to doze over his beer. Well, that was probably to be expected, considering it was a Tuesday.

“You another new recruit, Kyoutani?” Kuroo asked, returning his attention to the glaring bartender.

Another grunt. As if Kuroo had expected anything but. He took another drag from the cigarette and blew the smoke skyward this time. Kyoutani made a noise of disgust.

“Oh come on,” Kuroo scoffed. “I can’t be the first person who’s ever smoked around you. What, you don’t like menthols?”

“No one likes menthols,” Kyoutani grumbled.

“They wouldn’t make them if no one liked them,” Kuroo argued. “I’m not singlehandedly propping up the menthol cigarette industry.”

“They taste like tobacco mints, why even bother?” Kyoutani asked, grabbing the empty glass from Kuroo’s hand and filling it up automatically.

“Spud Hughes is rolling in his grave,” Kuroo said as he took it back.

“Who?”

“Ah, just a little menthol cigarette trivia,” Kuroo replied. “I’m sure you’re chomping at the bit to know more, aren’t you?”

“I’d rather stick a fork in my eye,” Kyoutani grumbled.

“KENTAROU!”

The shout made the two sleeping men at the bar jolt. One of them almost knocked his drink over. Kyoutani’s expression shifted back to disgust once more as he stared just behind Kuroo. Stamping out his cigarette, Kuroo peered over his shoulder to look for the source of the voice.

It was the assistant manager, the one with the coifed hair and permanent stick up his ass. His arms were crossed over his chest defensively. He wasn’t even looking at Kuroo, just glaring straight ahead at Kyoutani.

Kyoutani wasn’t answering, and judging by the look on his face when Kuroo glanced back at him, he wasn’t planning on answering either.

The coifed man pressed on anyway. “No one is stupid enough to think you’ve got a sunny disposition, but honestly, can you not pick a fight every five seconds? You’re going to get yourself laid out.”

Kyoutani just grunted. Shocker.

“Actually, we were having a really riveting conversation,” Kuroo piped up, pulling out his pack of cigarettes again.

To Kuroo’s surprise, the manager rolled his eyes. Never had Kuroo seen him be anything but courteous to a customer. And it seemed the man had noticed too. He raised a hand to his mouth, coughed, composed himself. His expression was passive again.

“Well congratulations, you managed to find the one customer who wouldn’t either complain or punch you for being rude,” the man reasoned. “It’s the perfect time to correct that behavior, before it gets out of control.”

“I don’t even want this stupid job,” Kyoutani mumbled. “You’re the one who made me work here.”

Kuroo thought the vein in the manager’s forehead might explode from the effort of trying to keep his face from contorting with anger. “You need money to live, Kentarou, and being a professional dog walker isn’t contributing to that.”

Kuroo heard Kyoutani mumble something about dogs being better than this garbage. He lit another cigarette and watched Kyoutani flash him a death glare.

“Okay, that’s it,” the coifed man snapped. He pointed toward the back of the bar with a shaking finger. “Back room. Now. Terushima will cover you.”

The name made Kuroo’s stomach lurch. As if on cue, the door behind the bar swung open, the one Kuroo assumed led to the kitchen. Terushima was wearing a subtle variation on the outfit from last time—a slightly darker shirt and slightly lighter jeans. He raked a hand through his hair, massaged the back of his neck, rolled his shoulders with a sigh.

And then his gaze fell on Kuroo. His lips tipped up into a knowing grin. But he said nothing.

“Terushima, watch the bar,” the manager barked, his attempted composure long gone.

Terushima looked away from Kuroo—Kuroo liked to think it was with some reluctance—and cocked a brow at the coifed manager. “Something wrong, Yahaba?”

“I’m fine,” Yahaba snapped.

Terushima bit back a chuckle, evidently aware that pressing it any further might lead to his death. He raised his hands in surrender. “My mistake,” he conceded. “I’ve got this covered. Do what you gotta do.”

With a brusque “Thank you,” Yahaba stomped down the hallway that led to the bathrooms and (evidently) the back room he used to reprimand employees. Kyoutani was mumbling to himself again. He dragged his feet as he followed, disappearing down the hallway. Kuroo vaguely heard a door close. But he didn’t really care about that now. The cigarette between his lips died, and the ice in his whisky was starting to melt. He just didn’t care.

With the way Terushima was looking at him, it was impossible to care about anything else.

The lazy grin that spread across Terushima’s face might have looked arrogant on anyone else. Hell, maybe it even looked arrogant on Terushima. But Kuroo saw it more as casual curiosity. It was in the way his eyes gave Kuroo a once over again, almost as though they were taking him in properly for the first time. He took a few slow steps forward. His arms crossed in front of him and he leaned against the bar on his elbows. The grin never faltered.

Kuroo realized with a start that his lungs were burning, and it wasn’t from the now-dead cigarette in his mouth. How long had he been holding his breath? And why? Why was he afraid to breathe, afraid that one wrong move might send Terushima away, might wake Kuroo up?

“Cat got your tongue?”

Kuroo choked. The cigarette dropped to the counter as he tried to catch his breath. He was torn between laughter and desperation for air.

“Ah, so you’re not just a statue,” Terushima said, that grin growing wider. “It’s the real Tetsurou.”

“Yup, in the flesh,” Kuroo managed.

“I thought maybe you were avoiding me,” Terushima noted. “Though I’d sorely hoped that wasn’t the case.”

“Maybe I just found love with Miyuki from Marketing,” Kuroo suggested. He added his old cigarette to the ashtray in front of him, then pulled another from the pack.

Across from him, Terushima threw back his head and laughed toward the ceiling, revealing the long expanse of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobbed tauntingly. Kuroo resisted the urge to lean forward and suck a dark bruise into the unmarred flesh.

“Well, I could tell it was really an at-first-sight thing with you two, so I suppose it couldn’t be help,” Terushima teased, recovering from his laughter. “Tell me you’ll at least name the first-born after me.”

“I’ll take it up with Miyuki from Marketing,” Kuroo replied.

“Do you even know what her last name is?”

“What a ridiculous question,” Kuroo scoffed.

“So that’s a no, then.”

“I know what it is, it’s Sato,” Kuroo argued.

Terushima narrowed his eyes. “So it’s just a coincidence that she happens to have the most common surname in all of Japan?”

Kuroo shrugged, lifted the cigarette to his lips, and lit the end. “Hey, if it’s the most common name, then people have to have it, right?”

“You’re an idiot,” Terushima laughed.

“Don’t lie, you missed this idiot,” Kuroo retorted.

There was a shift in Terushima’s expression, one that made Kuroo’s breath hitch. The half-lidded eyes, the parted lips, the fingers running along a pointed collarbone absentmindedly… It was almost too much for Kuroo.

“That… Is very true,” Terushima hummed thoughtfully.

Kuroo took a long drag from his cigarette, stalling for time. What could he even say to that? _I missed you too. Can I kiss you? What’s your blood type? We should adopt a dog together._

Probably a good thing his mouth was occupied.

“So, uh, what’s the deal with… All that?” Kuroo asked around his cigarette, gesturing toward the back room.

To Kuroo’s great relief, the sultry expression on Terushima’s face was gone, replaced with that trademark easy grin. “Oh, the Bicker Bunch?”

“Endearing,” Kuroo said.

“They’re like that _constantly_ ,” Terushima complained. “Yahaba’s always acted like something crawled up his ass and died there, but it’s worse now that the Mad Dog is here.”

“The Mad Dog?” Kuroo repeated.

“I guess it’s an old nickname,” Terushima waved off the explanation. “They’re ridiculous. When they’re not arguing, they’re fucking.”

Kuroo had clearly chosen the wrong moment to take a sip of his whisky, and now he was choking all over again. The alcohol burned as it came back up his throat.

“Oh my god, you have _no chill_!” Terushima was practically cackling now. His eyes were pinched shut, and a hand shot up to cover his mouth. How was he hot even when he was laughing like a hyena?

“Okay, this time it was completely your fault,” Kuroo spluttered, swiping at his watering eyes. “What kind of bomb is that to drop on an unsuspecting victim?”

“You’re so innocent,” Terushima sighed. “It’s like watching a baby deer learning how to walk.”

“I’m not innocent,” Kuroo argued.

That was probably a mistake. Terushima tipped his head curiously, intrigued by the apparent challenge Kuroo had presented. Wordlessly, Terushima pulled an arm out from under himself and reached out to Kuroo. His index finger swiped along the corner of Kuroo’s mouth, collecting some of the excess alcohol Kuroo had spilled. Kuroo watched unblinking as Terushima pulled back and popped the finger into his mouth.

As Terushima sloppily swirled his tongue around the digit, glided it in and out of his mouth, and pulled it out with a lewd pop, Kuroo remembered the way those lips felt around him. And the way Terushima was looking at him, eyes lidded and unfocused…

Kuroo was rock hard already.

“Fuck,” he murmured.

Terushima’s tongue darted across his lips as they tilted up victoriously. “Well, I stand corrected. You’re a regular deviant.”

A grunt from the other end of the bar made Kuroo practically leap out of his seat. The previously sleeping man was waving Terushima over, pointing to his beer. If he thought there was anything strange about their behavior, he ignored it.

Terushima pushed off of the counter back to a standing position. “Try not to stare too hard,” he murmured as he turned.

Kuroo would’ve argued—if there were any argument to stand on. But instead, his eyes were trained on Terushima’s ass as he walked away. It seemed like Terushima was swaying his hips on purpose. The thought of sliding his hands inside those tight jeans and gripping that ass hard entered Kuroo’s brain again. He propped his elbows on the counter and ran his hands roughly through his hair to try and collect himself. He sucked on his cigarette, letting it hang limp from his mouth as he exhaled.

When Kuroo glanced up again, he saw Terushima passing the beer to the already half-asleep man. He was smiling gently, mumbling something Kuroo couldn’t hear. The man nodded, replying with something short and probably noncommittal. Terushima nodded before returning to Kuroo. The man was asleep again in seconds.

“Okay, but you seriously have no chill. I could feel you staring from all the way over there,” Terushima said, leaning against the counter once more.

“You don’t flirt with everyone then,” Kuroo blurted out.

Terushima quirked a brow. “Worried that you’re not special… Tetsurou?”

Kuroo tried to repress a shiver at the low hum of his name. “It was just a question.”

“No, I don’t flirt with everyone. I’m not a fucking animal,” Terushima replied.

“I didn’t… Mean it like that,” Kuroo mumbled. He sucked on his cigarette again, stamped out the butt in the ashtray, and reached for another one. But then there was a hand on his, stopping him. He looked up to see Terushima watching him closely, appraising him once more.

“How did you mean it, then?” he asked.

Kuroo opened his mouth to speak. If only he were capable of such a gargantuan feat. All he actually managed to do was gape like a fish.

Thankfully, they were distracted by the return of Kyoutani, who wasn’t quiet about his arrival. Terushima pulled his hand away and shifted his gaze to the newcomer.

Kuroo couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or relieved.

“Oh my god,” Terushima said, chuckling at the sight of Kyoutani. “He could stand to be a little more subtle next time.”

Kuroo glanced over at Kyoutani and immediately understood. His neck was littered with hickeys, and Kyoutani’s attempt to cover them with his hand was futile. There were more tiny purple bruises than Kuroo could even count.

And Yahaba, who rounded the corner a moment later, was in no better shape. It seemed that he’d attempted to flatten his hair, but he’d missed everything in the back. It was sticking out in different directions. And when he turned around, a series of scratches ran down the back of his neck and disappeared down his shirt.

Terushima snorted. Loudly.

Yahaba snapped his head back, glaring at Terushima. “Something funny?” he barked.

“Nothing at all,” Terushima spluttered, doing a poor job of playing it cool. “I’m perfect. Never been better, actually.”

Yahaba wasn’t convinced, but a glance down at his watch had him shifting topics without further questioning.

“Your shift’s over,” he said, looking up at Terushima again. “We’ve got it covered.”

Judging by the look on his face, Kuroo knew that Terushima was bursting with a series of witty comments. But through sheer willpower, he managed to keep them inside. “You got it. I’m out.”

Kuroo slapped some money on the counter to pay for his drinks and hurtled himself off the barstool. He was a little too hasty, and he almost tripped over his own feet when he landed. Everyone behind the counter was staring at him.

Terushima didn’t bother to hide a laugh. “What a lightweight,” he teased once he was on the other side of the counter. “Need me to walk you home?”

“I’ve never been better,” Kuroo huffed, feeling like an idiot.

He and Terushima headed out into the warm evening air. Kuroo stopped to pull another cigarette out and light it. When he looked up again, Terushima was leaning against the wall.

“Something wrong?” Kuroo asked, wedging the cigarette between his teeth.

“I was just _so sure_ Yahaba would be the bottom,” Terushima groaned, carding a hand through his hair dejectedly.

“That’s a dangerous assumption to make,” Kuroo warned.

Terushima sneered up at Kuroo. “Come on. He’s always got a stick up his ass. Might as well be Kyoutani’s sometimes, right?”

At this, Kuroo barked with shoulder-shaking laughter. He didn’t miss the way Terushima looked at him, appraising him once more.

“So,” the blond said offhandedly, “any plans for the night?”

“I was just… Gonna head home,” Kuroo replied, pulling the cigarette from his lips and releasing a puff of smoke.

“That sounds awfully lonely,” Terushima noted, taking a step closer to Kuroo. “Care for some company?”

Kuroo dropped his cigarette, eyes widening in surprise. The words were stuck in his throat again, and all he could manage were a few confused blinks.

Terushima took another step, closing the space between them. His fingers curled around Kuroo’s tie. “I’m sure hoping this is a good awkward silence,” he murmured.

“I… I just…” Kuroo stammered, mouth working uselessly. He was thoroughly distracted by the body flush against his once more, the hand sliding up his chest. “I just gotta know… What do you want?”

“I really hoped you’d be able to pick up on that by now,” Terushima replied, tongue gliding over his lips reflexively. “Do I need to be a little more obvious? Fine…”

A yank on Kuroo’s tie brought him down to Terushima’s level, and just as Kuroo opened his mouth to speak again, Terushima leaned forward and smashed their lips together.

Kuroo’s first instinct was to gasp, and Terushima took to opportunity to slide his tongue past Kuroo’s open lips, slicking along the roof of the other’s mouth. Terushima’s hand was in his hair, tugging hard at the strands between his fingers.

Forgetting himself for a moment, Kuroo pressed into the kiss. Terushima’s mouth was so hot, so wet. His tongue tasted like lime. What a ridiculous thing to taste like. Kuroo couldn’t get enough of it. His tongue pressed past Terushima’s into that hot mouth, gliding along the slick muscle. He toyed with the tiny silver tongue stud, and Terushima exhaled hard through his nose.

But then Terushima’s hips tilted forward, pressing into Kuroo’s. The pressure made Kuroo groan, and he was forced to pull back and collect himself. Terushima didn’t like that. He yanked on Kuroo’s tie again, but Kuroo resisted.

“Stop,” Kuroo breathed. “Just… Wait…”

“I don’t want to wait,” Terushima protested, contenting himself with pressing kisses along Kuroo’s jaw. “I don’t like waiting.”

“Yeah, I gathered.”

“Besides,” Terushima murmured between kisses. “Doesn’t seem like… You want to wait… Either.” He thrust his hips forward again, and Kuroo’s erection betrayed him.

He groaned again, this time with nothing to muffle the sound. He wanted to have his way with Terushima right here on the sidewalk, to feel what it felt like inside him. Just the thought made Kuroo’s cock twitch.

“Damn it, no!” Kuroo cried, pressing against Terushima’s shoulders.

Terushima looked surprised, hurt almost as he looked up at Kuroo. With a face like that, he probably wasn’t used to being pushed away. “What, not as good as you thought it’d be?” he asked with a twinge of spite.

“Uh, no, it’s better,” Kuroo replied.

At least that made Terushima’s expression soften. “Well then what _is_ the problem? Besides the fact that you’re basically as pure as the driven snow…”

“Fuckin’… I’m not abstinent,” Kuroo countered. “I just… I gotta know what you want out of this.”

This made Terushima back away. Kuroo was disappointed to feel his warmth disappear.

“What, you wanna go steady?” Terushima teased. “Give me your varsity jacket to wear around school? Exchange promise rings, maybe?”

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like I’m out of line with this. You eye fuck me across the bar, blow me in the bathroom, and then haul ass out of there. Now you’re all over me again. I just… What do you… Want out of this?”

“Sex,” Terushima replied bluntly.

Kuroo tried to ignore just how dry his mouth was. “Yeah, funnily enough, I picked up on that much.”

“Look,” Terushima sighed, a hand raking through his hair impulsively. “I don’t want anything with a label. Labels get complicated. People start to depend on each other. I don’t need to depend on anyone, and I don’t need anyone to depend on me. I just wanna have some fun… I wanna have fun with you.”

“Fun,” Kuroo repeated.

“Assuming you’re capable of fun, considering the recent vow of celibacy you seem to have taken,” Terushima added cheekily.

“I’ll fuckin’ show you celibacy…”

Kuroo snapped, stepping forward and yanking Terushima toward him roughly. This time his lips crashed down on Terushima’s, stealing the air from his lungs. He sucked on Terushima’s bottom lip, bit at it hard. Terushima grunted, tried to shift his hips forward again. But Kuroo’s hands were quicker, reaching down and grabbing hold of his waist, stilling his movements.

Terushima whined—he actually whined—and tried to overpower Kuroo. His fingers were back in Kuroo’s hair, tugging hard at the dark locks. But still, Kuroo didn’t relent. He held Terushima’s hips steady, mere centimeters from his own. God, he wanted to feel Terushima against him again. But he had to tease just a little bit longer.

This time it was Terushima who pulled back, gasping desperately for air. “Tetsurou,” he hissed. “Stop fucking with me.”

“Awww, but you were the one who wanted to fuck,” Kuroo goaded.

“Screw. You.”

Kuroo grinned. “Yeah, soon enough.”

A growl rumbled up Terushima’s throat. And just as he was about to insult Kuroo once more, Kuroo pulled hard, knocking their pelvises together. Terushima hissed again, and now he was free to roll his hips against Kuroo’s, increasing the pressure.

But then a door nearby opened, and the sound was enough for Terushima and Kuroo to stumble apart. Terushima’s chest was heaving already, and the way he was looking at Kuroo… Kuroo thought that he might actually get eaten tonight.

He thought he probably looked about the same.

A couple left the apartment building next to the bar, casting sidelong glances at the two panting men. Kuroo heard the woman ask the man if he thought they were fighting. But Kuroo didn’t care. He stepped forward, took Terushima’s hand, and pulled him away from the bar at a brisk pace.

Terushima fell into stride next to him. “Please tell me you live nearby,” he breathed.

“Three blocks,” Kuroo replied. In his periphery, Kuroo could see Terushima pouting. “Oh, come on. It’s not that far.”

“Too far,” Terushima countered. “There’s plenty of alleyways nearby, though.”

Kuroo managed to maintain a calm façade, even though inside, his brain was doing summersaults. “Intimate though that may be… What we’re about to do is much easier in a bed.”

“Ooh, so traditional,” Terushima teased. “Are we gonna do it missionary? In silence? Staring uncomfortably into each other’s eyes?”

“Something tells me sex with you is anything but traditional,” Kuroo remarked.

Terushima threw his head back and laughed, and Kuroo flicked his gaze over to watch. He’d never been so attracted to someone’s laugh. But Terushima’s was perfect.

The walk to the bar felt significantly shorter than this walk back, but they were stumbling into Kuroo’s building and up the stairs soon enough. Kuroo dug in his pocket for his keys, realizing a bit too late that his hands were shaking. Was he anxious? Or just excited? Probably a bit of both.

As soon as the door was open, Terushima shoved Kuroo inside, slamming it shut behind him. Kuroo had barely turned around when Terushima was on him once more, tugging on his tie to bring their lips together.

Despite being almost a head shorter than him, Terushima seemed to be bearing down on Kuroo with a surprising amount of force, using his full weight to push Kuroo backwards. And Kuroo was glad to comply, stepping back, back, and then hitting the wall. Terushima’s tongue was insistent, gliding along Kuroo’s own, slicking along the roof of his mouth. Terushima seemed unable to decide what to do with his hands, working them over Kuroo’s arms, his shoulders, his neck, tangling in his hair.

But Kuroo knew exactly what to do with his hands, what he’d wanted to do for weeks. His fingers glided down and around Terushima’s hips, sliding into his jeans to grip his ass. Hard.

Terushima gasped, the sound muffled into Kuroo’s mouth. Kuroo took that as a good sign. He pushed against Terushima’s pert ass, pressing their hips together once more. He ground his length against Terushima’s through their clothes. Terushima moaned, returning the action eagerly. His hips rolled against Kuroo’s in a steady rhythm, taking control easily.

Kuroo bit down on his lip, sucking hard as he pulled away. This was good, even though he felt like a horny teenager all over again. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

Evidently, so did Terushima, whose hands were on the move again. He slid off Kuroo’s tie with ease, then deftly popped open the buttons of his shirt. Without bothering to slide the material down his shoulders, Terushima’s fingers began to explore the expanse of Kuroo’s chest. He was still panting hard, trying to catch his breath.

“Well, aren’t these nice,” Terushima hummed, fingertips dancing over Kuroo’s abs. “Though I suppose maintaining your appearance helps with the job.”

“I do my best,” Kuroo said. He didn’t realize just how dry his mouth was.

Terushima’s tongue darted across his lips once more before he leaned in abruptly, kissing a line down Kuroo’s sternum. His mouth was so hot.

But it still wasn’t enough for Kuroo. He wanted to feel more skin too. His hands slipped out of Terushima’s pants and under the hem of his shirt. It was up and over his head in an instant.

“Holy fuck,” Kuroo breathed.

Terushima looked up at him curiously. That certainly wasn’t helping Kuroo, who felt his brain going haywire already.

Terushima’s body looked like it had been sculpted by an artist. Slim shoulders gave way to lightly muscled arms. There was a light dusting of freckles on his shoulders, probably from summers spent in the sun. His chest and abs were perfect—not too rippling but still well chiseled. Two hard-cut hipbones disappeared in a taunting V beneath the top of his jeans, and Kuroo wanted to follow them all the way down with his tongue.

Kuroo knew Terushima was grinning—more likely smirking—but he didn’t care. In fact, he deserved to smirk. Someone who looked like that could do whatever he wanted.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Kuroo huffed without thinking.

“Speak for yourself,” Terushima retorted. He leaned up again, pressing a chaste kiss to Kuroo’s lips. “So, where’s this oh-so-important bed?”

“Last room down the hall,” Kuroo mumbled against his lips.

Terushima pulled away, that grin still etched across his face. Kuroo was tempted to pull him back, smash their lips together again, feel that grin give way to a moan. But Terushima was quicker. He grabbed Kuroo’s hand and tugged hard, pulling him out of the entryway and into the apartment.

Kuroo wished as they hastened through the living room and down the hallway that he’d used a little foresight and actually cleaned up in here. His neighbors had dubbed him (lovingly, of course) Hurricane Kuroo. Clothes of varying cleanliness, dishes and takeout boxes, assorted painting supplies, and half-read books were scattered across the apartment haphazardly—as though they’d been thrown about in a storm. At least it didn’t smell.

Though he couldn’t see Terushima’s face, Kuroo could already hear him sniggering. “I’ll hazard a guess and say you don’t often bring clients back to your place.”

“You mean it’s not the quirky, charming look I was going for?” Kuroo retorted cheekily.

“I’ve never thought ‘disaster area’ was synonymous with ‘quirky’,” Terushima said. “And I think there might be something living inside that pizza box tower.”

“Pepperoni Castle would be a suitable habitat for any number of small mammals, but I can assure you, I’m pest free.”

Terushima laughed again. This time Kuroo could only watch from the back. Still, he liked listening to it.

The bedroom wasn’t much better than the rest of the house, though at least the bed was cleared off. Terushima was free to round on Kuroo and shove against his shoulders in a silent command. Evidently he was growing tired of having to look up at his prey.

And Kuroo was happy to comply, falling to the bed with a heavy thump. He sat perched on the edge and stared hard as Terushima teasingly unbuttoned his jeans, pulled down the zipper, tugged them a little down his hips. Kuroo’s attention never wavered. Terushima peeled his jeans down his thighs and stepped out of them, leaving him in just his black boxer-briefs. He looked like he belonged in a damn underwear ad.

Still with the slowness of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, Terushima climbed onto the bed, resting a knee on either side of Kuroo’s thighs. His hands were in Kuroo’s hair again, angling his head back, lips pressed against his pulse point.

“Like what you see?” Terushima murmured, accentuating the question with a slow roll of his hips.

Kuroo couldn’t hold back a grunt, hands dropping to Terushima’s waist. “You look so fucking good.”

Terushima sucked hard against Kuroo’s neck, pulling the skin between his lips, teeth toying with it. Kuroo knew it would bruise. He dug his fingers into Terushima’s hips, bringing him forward again, grinding against his cock. Terushima moaned against Kuroo’s skin.

It was good. But it wasn’t enough. Kuroo needed more. He needed to touch everywhere. His hands were on the move again, one sliding around to Terushima’s back, the other disappearing into his boxers. His fingers followed a perfectly cut hipbone all the way down. Terushima’s hips stuttered reflexively.

And then his fingers wrapped around Terushima’s cock. It was burning hot to the touch and already wet with precum. His hand worked up and down the length, smearing it with precum. Before long, Terushima was keening against him.

“Fuck, that’s… That’s good,” Terushima gasped, his lips at Kuroo’s ear now.

“Yeah?” Kuroo said. “Like… _That_?”

He accentuated the question with a quick twist of his wrist. This earned a low moan from Terushima, who closed his lips around Kuroo’s earlobe to muffle the sound. Kuroo’s breath left him in a short huff as Terushima sucked hard at the lobe, his hand moving even faster now. Terushima’s hips were jumping erratically.

Terushima’s mouth met Kuroo’s again in a wet, messy kiss. He didn’t fight Kuroo’s tongue as it spilled into his mouth, didn’t battle Kuroo’s as it explored curiously. Kuroo could still taste the lime on his tongue. He wanted to ask Terushima what he’d eaten to taste like that—and maybe ask him to eat it every time they kissed.

“F… Fuck,” Terushima hissed suddenly. His hand was pushing against Kuroo’s shoulder. “Stop… You have to… Stop.”

“Why? No good?” Kuroo asked.

“Too good,” Terushima countered. “I’d rather cum with you inside me.”

Kuroo thought for a moment that his head might explode—though which head, he wasn’t exactly sure. His hand stalled, pulled away quickly, and even though Terushima was the one who’d demanded it, he groaned at the loss of friction.

Kuroo’s hands gripped Terushima’s hips again, this time to steady his balance. Together, they shifted up the bed, far enough for Kuroo to reach the side table. But, as seemed to be the trend of the evening, Terushima was quicker. His hand darted out to pull the top drawer open, and he leaned over to peer inside. A moment later, he was pouting.

“Problem?” Kuroo asked, surprised.

“I thought there might be some exciting stuff in there,” Terushima replied. He reached into the drawer and pulled out the small brown bottle of lube and a condom. “Not even a cock ring? Tetsurou, you’re the purest man I’ve ever known.”

Kuroo might’ve been able to come up with a witty retort if he’d been given a moment to think. But his head went completely blank as Terushima lifted himself onto his knees and began to tug his boxers down his hips. And when his cock finally sprang free, Kuroo audibly gasped.

If the rest of his body had been chiseled by some ancient Greek sculptor, then this was the part they’d spent the bulk of their time on. It was perfectly sized to his slim body, flushed pink and practically glistening. Kuroo was a little afraid to touch it again. He felt somehow unworthy.

Terushima shifted to slide his boxers off, pulling them down one leg, then the other. Kuroo couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening—the gorgeous, fully naked man resting against his thighs making it difficult to keep his head from spinning. He could see Terushima’s lips moving, but the blood roaring past his ears made it hard to hear.

“W-what?” he asked lamely.

“I said,” Terushima murmured, holding up the bottle of lube, “would you rather help or watch?”

Kuroo’s mouth fell open. Any hope he’d had of maintaining a cool façade was gone now. How could he even coherently answer that question? How could he even decide on an answer? Did he want to participate in the sexiest thing he would ever see in this life or the next, or would he rather get a front row seat?

“Well?” Terushima pressed.

“I cannot adequately answer that question,” Kuroo replied truthfully, regretting it an instant later.

Terushima’s grin stretched almost from ear to ear. “Honesty is the best policy, I suppose.” He uncapped the bottle and poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. “Why don’t you just watch. Jump in if you feel inspired.”

Kuroo swallowed hard and managed a nod, eyes trained on the slick fingers in front of him. Terushima worked his fingers over one another, warming the liquid until he was satisfied. His hand disappeared behind him, and some of his weight lifted off Kuroo’s lap.

In an instant, Terushima’s expression melted from easy confidence to mingled pain and pleasure. His lips parted, but no sound escaped, like the words had been caught on his tongue. Kuroo watched his arm flex, the slick sound of fingers moving in and out filling the quiet room. His spine curved, body falling forward and curling around Kuroo.

“You’re… Quieter than I thought you’d be,” Terushima breathed, gasping around his thrusts.

“Sorry,” Kuroo mumbled. “Just… Kind of overwhelmed.”

The shadow of a grin returned to Terushima’s face. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

A thousand thoughts drifted through Kuroo’s head as he watched Terushima, expression cracking again and a moan passing through his lips. He was the most beautiful sight Kuroo had ever seen. All the sunrises, sunsets, rainbows after storms, and starry skies in the world combined didn’t even come close. Kuroo thought he might be content sitting here forever, watching Terushima pleasure himself, memorizing every sound, every expression.

Terushima was right. He really didn’t have any chill.

He contented himself with leaning forward and pressing his lips to Terushima’s exposed throat, nipping and sucking hard against the exposed skin. Terushima’s free hand was tugging at his hair again. His tongue played over Terushima’s Adam’s apple, teeth nibbling teasingly as he passed. A quiet breath of air left Terushima, and Kuroo assumed it was a good thing.

Kuroo reached a hand down to wrap gently around Terushima’s cock once more. He stroked in time with Terushima’s tiny bounces. “Does it feel good?” he asked, lips still pressed to Terushima’s sweat-slick skin.

“Y-yes,” Terushima cried. He was panting now, short breaths that fell into rhythm with his fingers and Kuroo’s hand. His eyes were squeezed shut.

When his expression cracked, a throaty groan escaping those swollen lips, Kuroo had to fight the urge to cum. His cock was achingly hard, and his boxers were probably a mess, but he didn’t care. The sight above him was worth it.

Terushima’s eyes opened and peered down at Kuroo. His tongue darted across his lips at the sight of Kuroo watching him hungrily. “Tell me… What you want,” he ordered. How could he still sound so commanding, even as his voice broke around a well-timed flick of Kuroo’s wrist?

“I wanna fuck you,” Kuroo breathed.

“Details, Tetsurou,” Terushima chided breathily. “I want to be invested in this little venture. Unless maybe you’re too pure for—“

“I want you to ride my cock, _Yuuji_ ,” Kuroo growled.

Terushima breathed a quiet laugh. “Still not the best but— _hah_ —it’ll do.” He moaned as he withdrew his fingers, wiping the excess lube onto Kuroo’s pants.

“Um, gross,” Kuroo grimaced.

Terushima’s grin grew wider. “Not like you’re keeping them on,” he retorted, fingers already working loose Kuroo’s belt.

Well, that was true. Kuroo lifted his hips, and Terushima shrugged him out of his pants and boxers with remarkable dexterity. And for the first time, Kuroo saw Terushima’s grin falter, watched his mouth open slightly in surprise.

“W-what’s wrong?” Kuroo asked tentatively.

“It’s just… You’re so wet,” Terushima murmured, his hand wrapping around Kuroo’s length.

The sound that ripped from Kuroo’s chest was almost animalistic. He threw his head back, knocking it against the headboard in the process. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t even feel it. Terushima’s hand had him reeling. He was burning hot, aching for more friction. More heat. More.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way.

It seemed Terushima had reached a similar point, his hand falling away as he lifted himself up to hover over Kuroo. He was tearing the condom open, sliding it over Kuroo’s length, and thoroughly coating it with lube when Kuroo finally returned to reality.

“Ready for me?” Terushima asked.

Kuroo wasn’t sure if he could form words, so he settled for a concise nod. It seemed to satisfy Terushima, who slid forward, lining Kuroo up to his entrance. And, without warning, Terushima sank onto his cock.

Kuroo tossed his head forward, pressing his face firmly into Terushima’s shoulder to muffle the embarrassingly loud moan that bubbled past his lips. Terushima was groaning too. Kuroo could feel his thighs trembling with the effort of keeping himself upright. His hands were in Kuroo’s hair again, pulling hard to steady himself.

“You feel… Amazing,” Terushima moaned.

Kuroo had to curl his fingers tight around Terushima’s hips to keep himself from driving Terushima down further onto his cock. But Terushima took action instead, rising up so just the tip of Kuroo’s cock was inside, then dropping slowly back down onto it.

It was so tight, so hot, Kuroo thought he might pass out from the pressure. He grit his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, dug his fingers into Terushima’s hips hard enough to leave bruises.

The agonizingly slow pace Terushima set had Kuroo moaning with every downward thrust of Terushima’s hips. Once Terushima managed to adjust to Kuroo’s girth, he took in a little more with each pass. His hiccupping gasps against Kuroo’s ear were almost too much. Kuroo pulled back, just enough to look up at Terushima.

And what a sight he was. He was staring down at Kuroo, eyes blown black with pleasure. His lips were red and swollen, his teeth tugging furiously on his bottom lip in a futile attempt to muffle his gasps. His skin was slick with sweat, and the small purple bruise set against his throat was blooming darker by the minute.

And then, his lips parted, and a quiet command issued from them—one that made Kuroo shudder.

“More.”

Oh, Kuroo desperately wanted to give him more. He leaned his back against the headboard, giving himself a little more leverage. His hips tilted upward with each of Terushima’s downward thrusts. The sound of slapping flesh wasn’t loud enough to drown out Terushima’s new whines of pleasure.

“Don’t stop,” Terushima whimpered. “Like… Like that… Just like that…”

The tension in Terushima’s body was mounting, his back arching as he threw his head back to let loose a loud moan. Kuroo felt him tightening, the pressure around his cock almost unbearable.

“Fuck, Yuuji, you’re so tight, fuck!” Kuroo hissed through clenched teeth.

Terushima couldn’t manage a proper response, garbling on a moan instead. He tugged on Kuroo’s hair and pulled him forward into a not-quite kiss, all tongues and teeth and muffled moaning. Kuroo was driving into him harder now, and when Kuroo sucked Terushima’s bottom lip between his own, Terushima seemed to crumble.

Well, at least Kuroo had learned how to make Terushima unravel.

“T-Tetsurou,” he slurred. “Right… There… That’s… I’m gonna…”

“You’re gonna what?” Terushima pressed through clenched teeth. “Say it.”

“I’m… I’m gonna cum!”

One of Kuroo’s hands left Terushima’s hip to wrap around his cock instead, and Terushima lost his composure entirely. His body bucked without abandon, meeting Kuroo’s forceful, upward thrusts with ardor. Kuroo could feel him tightening. He wouldn’t last much longer.

But then Terushima was choking on an empty sob, frantic broken cries of “Tetsurou” leaving his lips. Kuroo could feel it rapidly approaching. Somehow, impossibly, Terushima was tightening around him even more. Nails dug into his scalp, brought him closer.

And, with a particularly fractured shout of his name, Terushima came hard over Kuroo’s hand, thick spurts of cum coating their stomachs. It was too tight, and Kuroo couldn’t control himself any longer. His hips jerked and, with a garbled shout of Terushima’s name against his lips, he came too.

Their movements stilled gradually, the air between them settling heavily. Neither of them pulled away, clinging to one another, frozen in place. Even as their breathing evened out, heartbeats returning to normal, they continued to sit in silence.

Kuroo thought for a moment that he’d be fine like this forever.

But then the moment was over, Terushima was pulling back, staring down at him with a bewildered expression. “That was… You were…” he trailed off, still in a daze.

“Able to at least meet your expectations, I hope,” Kuroo joked.

“Surpassed,” Terushima corrected. “By far. Miles. Might not even be on the same planet.”

Kuroo couldn’t help but crack a proud smile. “I’ll just add that to my resume.”

“’Ability to fuck your brains out.’ Reads pretty nice.”

Terushima was on the move, easing off of Kuroo with a shudder, still sensitive from his orgasm. He moved to the edge of the bed and stood up gingerly. Kuroo was surprised to see him steady on his feet. He ran a hand through the cooling cum on his stomach, a grin stretching across his face. Tiny bruises were flowering on his hips, courtesy of Kuroo’s fingers.

“Is that the bathroom?” he asked, pointing to a door of to his left.

“Oh, yeah, right there.”

Without another word, Terushima scooped up his pants and disappeared through the bathroom door. Kuroo could hear him moving about, flushing the toilet, splashing some water around. With a huff, Kuroo leaned back against the headboard. He thought he might fall asleep right now. How Terushima was up and moving around so easily was beyond him.

When Terushima reappeared, he was half-dressed and holding his phone. “Put your number in there,” he said, tossing the phone at Kuroo.

Kuroo complied without question, adding his name and number, then tossing the phone back to Terushima.

“You know, I’m not kicking you out. You can stay if you want to,” Kuroo said, straightening up a little.

He was surprised when Terushima threw his head back and laughed again, though he couldn’t complain about the view—a gloriously half-naked and still sweat-slicked Terushima laughing in his bedroom.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m good,” Terushima replied. “This was definitely fun though. Can’t wait to do it again.”

“Ah, wait!”

Kuroo scrambled to his feet, wrapping the sheet around his body as he hurried after the retreating Terushima. He was already at the door by the time Kuroo caught up with him.

“I mean, I can drive you home or something,” Kuroo offered lamely.

Terushima glanced over his shoulder as he opened the door, throwing Kuroo a knowing smirk. “I can manage,” he said. “Keep your phone on though. You’ll be hearing from me again soon.”

Just like the night in the bathroom, the door closed behind Terushima, and he was gone.

And Kuroo was left wondering just how long he’d have to go before seeing Terushima again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thewiselearnfromhistory.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

Kuroo leaned against the doorframe, raising a fist to hammer on the door in front of him. And once he started, he didn’t stop. He knew the person on the other side would pretend to be asleep—it had happened more times than Kuroo could count. He’d learned to be relentless. And eventually, he could hear movement on the other side, a muffled shout that sounded like _“STOP!”_

But he didn’t stop. His fist hammered even harder as the footsteps drew closer. And finally, the door in front of him flew open, revealing a pajama-clad, bleary-eyed Akaashi.

“Is the building burning down?” Akaashi asked, his voice gravelly.

“Unfortunately, no,” Kuroo replied. “Can’t cash in on that renter’s insurance yet.”

Akaashi’s face, already looking up at Kuroo with disgust, managed to glare a little harder. “Is someone dead? Because those are the only two acceptable reasons for waking me up with your incessant knocking.”

“Well, Kaash, people die every day,” Kuroo noted, shouldering past Akaashi and stepping into the apartment. “Realistically, someone’s probably dying now.”

“Is anyone dying that I care about?” Akaashi snapped.

Kuroo slid his shoes off in the entryway and made a beeline straight for the couch. He knew Akaashi was probably glowering now, crackling with enough energy to light a city block. But Kuroo wasn’t particularly bothered. “I’m not clairvoyant enough to answer that with confidence. I suppose it’s possible.”

Akaashi huffed a sigh, shuffling out of the living room and into the kitchen. Kuroo could hear cupboards slamming and the kettle literally dropping onto the stove. This was all still relatively normal. Morning Akaashi was always the grumpiest.

“So basically,” Akaashi called loud enough for Kuroo to hear, “you have no earthly reason for waking up the entire apartment complex?”

“I hate to break it to you, but most of this complex’s inhabitants are up and about before one in the afternoon,” Kuroo countered, glancing down at his watch. “Sorry, 1:30 in the afternoon.”

“Sunday is the only day I have to catch up on sleep now that busy season’s started,” Akaashi argued. “I have been robbed of that joy this morning. I’m sorry, _afternoon_.”

“You know you wouldn’t get any sleep tonight if I left you to rot in that bed. You complained about it last weekend, remember?”

Akaashi reappeared holding two mugs of tea. Kuroo honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if one of them were reserved for his lap, but Akaashi just wordlessly passed it to him before dropping down onto his recliner. “I could have done without the ceaseless knocking,” he mumbled as he sipped at his tea.

“Ah, but you ignore me when I’m delicate,” Kuroo noted, inclining his mug to Akaashi before taking a drink. “Plus you make the best tea.”

“It’s tea,” Akaashi deadpanned. “I made you leaf water. I don’t think it’s possible to make it _the best_.”

“It’s the best,” Kuroo repeated.

Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Why do they let you be an adult if you can’t even buy your own tea?”

“I’ve managed to convince the committee by the skin of my teeth,” Kuroo said proudly.

“Bribed them, more likely.”

“I see no difference.”

Akaashi just hummed as he took another drag from his tea. Frankly, Kuroo was impressed he’d managed to wring this much conversation out of Akaashi. Probably a good time to take a break. Kuroo put his mug down on the table and settled back into the crook of the couch, turning on the tv and flipping to some horrendous reality show. The renewed look of disgust on Akaashi’s face spoke for itself, but he said nothing—evidently lapsing into resigned acceptance.

It was only a few minutes into the show when Kuroo felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He practically spilled his tea in his haste to pull it out. And then again when he read the message on the screen.

_> >[Terushima]: You know what would make this staff meeting a little more tolerable? If you were here to bend me over the counter and fuck me._

Kuroo glanced up at Akaashi, who was staring zombie-like at the tv screen. At least Kuroo probably didn’t look as crazed as he felt. He set his tea down on the table in front of him. Because obviously this task required both hands. His fingers trembled as he typed out a response, restarting the message more than three times.

_> >[Kuroo]: Kinky. You want everyone else to see? I’d rather keep you all to myself._

It was so vanilla, and Kuroo cursed himself for not being able to come up with anything better. It didn’t matter how many filthy texts Terushima sent him, Kuroo never got better at sexting. Still, this wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever written, and after proofreading it for what felt like the hundredth time, he pressed send.

Then came the inevitable agonizing over the message—why did he send that, was it too vanilla, would Terushima finally decide Kuroo wasn’t worth the effort. And then the further agony when those three little dots appeared, signaling Terushima’s impending response. The seconds passed far too slowly.

And then the message appeared. Kuroo could barely hold on to his phone.

_> >[Terushima]: You can fuck me in front of whoever you want, if I can cum the way you made me last week._

Kuroo licked his lips, settled a little deeper into the couch, and tried to figure out what he could possibly say to follow that. Anything he could come up with felt so mild in comparison. Terushima was right. He really was pure.

It had been a few weeks now since their first night together, when he’d woken up the next morning to a new mail from an unknown number.

_> >[Unknown]: It was such a nice walk back to the bus stop by the bar. And here I thought I might have a hard time walking. Such a gentle lover, Tetsurou._

Kuroo saved the contact and immediately fired back with a message about making sure that happens next time. It was easy enough to be bold when there were two screens and half a city between them. Delivering on that promise was decidedly tougher.

And now for weeks, Kuroo had been making his way to the bar after work. He’d sip his whisky, chain smoke, try to keep himself composed through the flirty touches and Terushima’s unnerving habit of licking his lips just so, just enough for the flash of the silver tongue stud to be visible. Kuroo was always hard by the time they stumbled out the door, and Terushima usually had his hand stuffed down Kuroo’s pants before they even made it back to the apartment.

Despite his best efforts, Kuroo found himself growing more and more intoxicated with the blond. He checked his phone constantly, always irrationally disappointed to see nothing, always irrationally excited to see something. And their nights together left Kuroo completely spent, yet hungry for more. Messages like these were growing more and more common, and still, Kuroo hadn’t figured out how to have any chill when he got his first glimpse of them.

His fingers were swift as he latched on to an idea, tapping out a message.

_> >[Kuroo]: If I were there, I’d fuck you against the counter. Bend you over, drive into you, and pull your hair while you yell my name._

It was just dirty enough to satisfy Terushima, and even though Kuroo would never be able to follow through with it, the reality wasn’t a big concern. Like Terushima would ever _really_ be okay with fucking in front of the entire staff of the Liquor Mortis.

Well… At least Kuroo didn’t think he would be. Though Terushima had surprised him before.

Kuroo tapped the send button, then reached out to grab his tea. It was then that he realized Akaashi was watching him with narrowed eyes. “I know I’m a vision of beauty, Kaash, but at least let me know if you’re gonna ogle,” Kuroo joked.

“What’s wrong with you?” Akaashi asked.

“Jeez, it was a joke.”

Akaashi rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Not that. Your humor no longer has any effect on me. I mean why are you all… Perky?”

“I’m perky?” Kuroo repeated.

“It’s highly annoying.”

“Well, good to know you only want the best for me.”

“Honestly, what happened?” Akaashi asked, ignoring the quip. “You keep looking at your phone like it’s telling you a secret.”

“I… did not realize I was being so obvious,” Kuroo mumbled.

“It’s not just today either,” Akaashi went on. “You are annoying in general—“

“Thanks.”

“—but lately,” Akaashi continued, “you have been marginally less annoying. Though the bedsprings have been keeping me awake more often than usual. Perhaps the two things are linked.”

Kuroo dropped his head back onto the cushion. His first instinct was a sarcastic comment about Akaashi being a voyeuristic pervert, getting his jollies listening to the couple on the other side of the wall getting it on. But the more he thought about them, the more Akaashi’s words seemed to take on new meaning.

He wasn’t just perkier lately, he was actually happier. And it wasn’t only thanks to the mind-blowing sex he was having. Terushima gave Kuroo something to look forward to, something to work toward. He wasn’t just going to work, going home, pretending to be a starving artist, and repeating the whole process all over again. Now, he wanted to reach the end of the day.

His phone buzzed, and he glanced down at the new message.

_> >[Terushima]: Maybe next time we can make that happen. Even if it’s just in your kitchen._

_Next time_.

And oh, Kuroo was desperate for that _next time_. If this were as casual as he and Terushima had agreed to be, he wouldn’t be yearning so desperately for the next time. He was ready to fly off of Akaashi’s couch and go to the bar now.

If he really was just in this for fun, like they’d agreed, he wouldn’t be so desperate to see Terushima again.

“I think,” Kuroo mumbled, lifting his gaze to Akaashi’s, “I’m in over my head.”

Akaashi’s expression was still serious, though it seemed a bit softer than before. “Do you need me to take off the metaphorical boxing gloves and actually be genuine?” he asked. “I am capable of it, if it’s what you need.”

Kuroo shook his head, managing a tiny smile. “I’ll be fine. I just… I gotta… Think about some things.”

“Will you be occupying my couch while you think about said things? I was going to order lunch.”

If Kuroo were a little less in his own head, the thought of a free lunch and cable tv on a comfortable couch would’ve put him over the moon. But instead, he just shook his head again and groaned as he rocked to his feet. “I have to work soon, and I was working on a painting, just figured I’d wake you from the dead.”

He didn’t want to look at Akaashi, didn’t want to see the disappointment there was sure to be in those piercing green eyes. Akaashi was usually so blasé, and Kuroo probably should have taken him up on the surprisingly sincere offer. But he didn’t have to burden Akaashi with his problems, especially if he couldn’t even make sense of them himself.

After a brief exchange of goodbyes, Kuroo headed back to his apartment. He’d made the excuse of working on his painting, but it was just that—an excuse. Maybe before, he would’ve been able to bury himself in his newest project until reluctantly leaving for work in a few hours.

But instead, he tossed himself onto his lumpy, springy couch and pulled his phone from his pocket. Scrolling up, he reread his message thread with Terushima. When they’d started messaging a few weeks ago, the messages were almost exclusively sexual. But as time wore on, the sexts were interspersed with conversation—interesting things that happened during the day, idiots at the bar, complaints about lack of inspiration.

Maybe at the beginning, it was just about having fun. But now, it was more than that. They were getting closer, starting to care.

Starting to need each other.

Kuroo raked a hand through his hair, fingers catching in the unruly mess. This was getting out of hand. He needed to take a step back, prove to himself that he didn’t need Terushima. He could be fun and casual. He knew how to do that.

But as his phone vibrated and he dropped it straight onto his face, as he scooped it up and read the message on the screen, Kuroo knew there wasn’t a casual bone in his body. The fact that his fingers were already tapping out a response before he’d even finished reading the message was proof enough.

_> >[Terushima]: Next time is going to be tonight, yeah? I might not even be able to hold out until then._

Kuroo stopped halfway through typing _“I’ll see you tonight”_ and dropped his phone onto the floor next to him. Maybe the first step to being more casual was to stop being so available. He just needed to let the message hang in the air for a bit, make it seem like he wasn’t laying here waiting for Terushima to message him.

Even though he totally was.

 

* * *

 

Kuroo’s mind didn’t settle. In fact, it was working overtime when he climbed out of his car and made his way into the agency later that evening. He’d never answered Terushima’s message, though he hadn’t for a moment forgotten about it. His phone felt like a lead weight in his pocket, heavy with the weeks’ worth of messages he’d exchanged with Terushima.

Though, once he headed inside the agency and made his way to the back room, he was able to forget about his impending problem, even if only for a moment.

There were only two people in the room already—though considering he was here at an awkward time between the dinner dates and the late night dates, this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. What was uncommon was the particular position the occupants were in.

Tendou was sitting on one of the couches, his shoes kicked off at his feet. And on his lap was a particularly aggressive Semi, who appeared to be trying to swallow Tendou’s entire head. Semi’s hands were knotted in Tendou’s hair, and Tendou’s were tucked in the back of Semi’s dress pants, gripping his ass hard. Neither took notice of Kuroo’s entrance until he purposefully slammed the door shut behind him.

Semi pulled away roughly, climbing off of Tendou’s lap and nearly tripping in the process. He looked ready to explode, and if Kuroo squinted, he could almost see the steam issuing from Semi’s ears.

“What?” Semi barked, doing his best to sound intimidating. Though, with such an obvious boner, the intensity was significantly diminished.

“Is… Is that a question for me?” Kuroo asked. “Because I do work here. I could go home, I guess. Take the night off. But you probably—“

“I mean what the fuck are you doing here now!” Semi hissed. He was practically shaking. “Drink dates don’t start for an hour!”

“Sorry, definitely didn’t mean to interrupt a private session,” Kuroo snarked. He was halfway through pulling his bag off of his shoulder when he froze, his memory working a little slower than usual. “Wait…” he turned his attention to Tendou. “So when you talk about ‘tending to important client matters’ in the afternoon, you really _are_ providing a service?”

“Servicing my most important client,” Tendou replied, looking exceptionally proud of himself.

“Satori, I will kill you in your sleep,” Semi seethed, the words slithering out from between his teeth.

“Eitaaaaaa,” Tendou purred. “You always say our job is to make the clients happy. And you’re _always_ happy when you’re with me.”

Semi’s head looked ready to pop off of his shoulders. His hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides, like they were just itching to be around Tendou’s neck. Though, Kuroo couldn’t help but notice that Semi wasn’t refuting Tendou. And the boner he still sported was pretty damning evidence.

“C’mon, Eita, let me finish you, that looks pretty painful,” Tendou said, pointing directly at Semi’s erection.

“I will literally set you on fire,” Semi barked, stomping past Kuroo and out the door to head back to the security of his office.

“Wait,” Kuroo said, throwing himself into the empty seat next to his bag. “I was always under the impression that you and Ushijima were knocking boots, so—“

“Did… Did you really just use the expression _knocking boots_?” Tendou asked with disdain. “I refuse to accept the fact that you are anything but a 75-year old man in a young man’s body.”

“Okay, but my vocabulary aside,” Kuroo huffed, “are you two really not together?”

Tendou just shrugged. “We are. Since we were in high school, actually. But variety is the spice of life.”

“And Ushijima is okay with that?”

“Yeah, he’s fine with it. It’s just casual with Eita. We have fun. But it’s not like my relationship with Wakatoshi at all,” Tendou explained.

“And… What’s that like?” Kuroo asked.

“With Wakatoshi?” Tendou pursed his lips in thought. “I mean… I don’t think I could live without him. Seriously. He makes me eat that nasty kale shit because it’s _healthy_ , and he made me do yoga once. What a nightmare. But I limbered up I guess. And he’s the only one who ever remembers to lock the apartment when we leave. I’d be a mess without him. Plus it’s other stuff too, you know? I mean, I love him, but I like him too. I think he’s hilarious, he’s caring as hell, and he’s the best lay I’ve ever had. Like… Fuckin’ legendary.”

The light atmosphere around Kuroo seemed to dissipate almost immediately. “That so?” he mumbled.

“Awwwww, why so down, my favorite little cactus?” Tendou asked, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. “You’re a lot less chipper than usual.”

The words jarred Kuroo a bit more than they should have. “I’m not exactly known for being chipper.”

“Lately you have been though,” Tendou retorted. “You used to practically have to drag yourself here every night, it was super obvious you didn’t want to be here. I mean, not like this job is a bowl’a cherries anyway, but it was pretty obvious you hated it. Lately though… Man, I dunno, you act like it’s not such a chore, you know? I just figured you were getting laid more often, that’ll usually do the trick.”

Thankfully, Kuroo was spared the chore of coming up with a reply due to the timely arrival of Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who were both locked in an argument. And of course, Tendou pounced on them, eager to be a part of someone else’s drama.

Kuroo leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes and trying to drown out the other voices in the room. So Tendou could be casual. Tendou knew how to play it cool. He had way more chill than Kuroo could ever hope to attain. After knowing both of them for more than two years, Kuroo would never have guessed there was anything but animosity between Semi and Tendou. And yet, it seemed like they’d been comfortably going at it for a while. He could do casual like a pro.

But then, he could do committed just as easily as casual. He loved Ushijima, not just in word but also in deed. Kuroo had always been able to see that as plain as day. But like Tendou said, it wasn’t just love. It was a _need_. He needed Ushijima. All the flings in the world could come and go, but Ushijima would be the constant, the lighthouse that got him through the storm.

What a stupid, cheesy analogy. But it was true.

And now, Terushima was starting to feel like Kuroo’s lighthouse. His skinny, blond, pierced lighthouse who could do things with that tongue ring to have Kuroo seeing the heavens open up. He was making every part of Kuroo’s life better—work, art, sex, even food seemed to taste better. He looked forward to every interaction, every message and phone call.

It was anything but casual. Anything but plain old fun.

So, Kuroo didn’t let himself think about it. He fished his phone out of his pocket and opened up his message thread with Terushima, the unanswered question about tonight still up on the screen. His fingers worked furiously as he tapped out his own message. He didn’t even bother to proofread it before pressing send.

_> >[Kuroo]: That’s not a good idea. I don’t think I’m gonna come by the bar anymore. And you shouldn’t come by the apartment either. I think this thing has run its course. But it’s been fun._

And without giving it a second look, Kuroo put the phone to sleep and stuffed it back in his pocket.

But he wasn’t able to forget about the message and just enjoy his night with his client. Not only was he haunted with second thoughts and regrets about sending the message, but the phone seemed to buzz every two minutes. He always kept it on vibrate in case it was his dad or Akaashi or the agency. But tonight, it was Terushima every time. Alternating phone calls and messages had Kuroo checking it constantly. He could sense the woman across from him losing interest, but he couldn’t care.

Thankfully, she was a bit more patient than Miyuki from Marketing, and he made it all the way to the end of the evening without her turning tail. He bid her goodnight at her car door and headed back to his apartment, reading every message that came in.

Terushima was pissed. Clearly. And he had a right to be. His messages alternated between confusion and absolute rage, asking Kuroo what happened and threatening to bust his door down in the same message. Kuroo didn’t listen to the voicemails though. He wasn’t sure he could. Not yet.

He was surprised to make it back to his apartment and not see Terushima sitting outside the door—at least judging by the numerous threats to camp out there. Kuroo wasn’t sure whether or not that was a relief. With a sigh, he unlocked his door and shuffled inside, tossing his bag haphazardly across the room. It landed near his most recent project, one he’d brought out into the living room for some better lighting. He’d been too preoccupied with his phone earlier to even notice it. But now, it was all he could see.

It was Terushima, tossed across Kuroo’s bed in a tangle of sheets. He’d thrown an arm over his eyes and accidentally fallen asleep for a few minutes after one of their more rigorous nights together. Kuroo had crept as slowly as possible to his sketchbook and gotten caught in the act halfway through a sloppy sketch. But it was enough, and he’d immersed himself in the painting. He didn’t need a reference. He had every detail of Terushima memorized.

Yeah. Cool and casual. Definitely.

_“KUROO! OPEN THE DOOR!”_

The sudden shout was followed by a pounding on the door behind Kuroo that he definitely should’ve expected. He took a moment to collect himself, taking a deep breath, trying to steel himself against the fight. There was no backing down now. He’d made a decision, and he had to live with it.

With a final deep breath, Kuroo turned, unlocked the door, and pulled it open.

Terushima looked ready to explode. He was visibly shaking, hands balled into fists at his sides, and his face was contorted with rage. It seemed that the sight of Kuroo had left him speechless. His jaw clenched as he stared, lips parted with no sound coming out.

All Kuroo wanted to do was tell him to forget about the whole thing. Just come in and forget it happened and climb into bed. Stay tonight. Stay forever.

But that couldn’t happen. So instead, he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, trying to put on the face of someone who could send messages ruining a person’s night and not give a shit. “What’s up?” he asked.

It looked like that was what Terushima needed to snap back to reality. “What’s up?” he repeated, his words dripping with disdain. “Are you fucking kidding me? I had to leave work early to deal with this, and all I get is _what’s up_?!”

“I mean, do you need something?” Kuroo went on. “I gotta get to bed, early morning.”

“I’ve never heard a more blatant lie in my entire life, but nice try,” Terushima spat. “Did I do something? Did something happen? Because normal people have the fucking decency to let someone know why they’re backing out of a good thing like this.”

Kuroo shrugged, trying to emulate Tendou’s earlier carefree attitude. “It was fun, and now it’s over. But we had a good run. So let’s not make a big deal, o—“

“A big deal?!” Terushima roared, drowning out Kuroo’s voice. “Fuck you! It _is_ a big fucking deal! You had your dick inside me yesterday, and now it’s ‘We had a good run’? You can’t give me a good reason, which means you either don’t have a reason or it’s a bullshit reason! We were having fun, and now suddenly you’re not. You couldn’t fake all that amazing sex, so what’s the bullshit reason?”

Kuroo took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. _I am cool. I am calm. I am casual. I am Tendou._ Probably the only time in his life he’d ever want to channel Tendou Satori. “There is no reason. I think we had our fun, and now it’s done,” he reasoned.

Terushima was seething, ready to explode. “And I call bullshit! Fucking tell me what’s wrong!”

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s—“

“Stop lying to me!” Terushima yelled. “Just stop!”

Kuroo wasn’t sure what to say. _“I’m too in love with you”_ wasn’t acceptable, but then _“No reason”_ wasn’t exactly cutting it either. Thankfully though, his saving grace came in the form of the skinny, surly man who rounded the corner and slowed as he stumbled upon the scene before him.

“Ah, babe! You’re home!” Kuroo called to him, etching grin across his face the best he could.

Akaashi was clearly confused, and Kuroo worried that as Terushima rounded on him, sized him up, Akaashi would give the game away. “I can’t believe you’re so late, I missed you sooooooo much,” Kuroo tried to sell the lie as best he could.

That was probably enough. Terushima threw one last glare toward Kuroo before stomping back down the hall, hissing a “Your boyfriend’s a fucking asshole” to Akaashi as he passed.

“Bye, Yuuji-kun,” Kuroo called after him.

It hurt. Every second of this hurt Kuroo. But it had to be done. Kuroo wouldn’t be the one with the broken heart, wouldn’t dare admit that his feelings had grown so large, they threatened to consume him from the inside. He couldn’t do it. So instead, he kept the disgusting smile plastered on his face.

 

* * *

 

“C’mon cactus, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, you’re like… Dead cactus now. What’s wrong?”

Kuroo just sighed, throwing himself down into his favorite chair and trying to sink into it forever. He was surrounded by his fellow escorts who were all watching him like he was a bomb about to explode. The same way they’d been watching him for three weeks now.

“You can tell us, come on,” Tendou urged again. “We’ve got your back.”

“For some reason, I feel like you’d be more convincing if you weren’t giving Wakawaka a lap dance,” Makki noted.

It was true. Tendou was literally sitting on Ushijima’s lap, back against the sturdier man’s chest. Ushijima seemed nonplussed about the entire situation.

Tendou just laughed. “You just wish you could hop on,” he teased. “Maybe if you ask him nicely, Wakatoshi would take you up on it.”

Ushijima looked up with his dead stare and said without inflection, “Sorry, I much prefer redheads.”

As per usual with Ushijima spoke, the room burst into uproarious laughter. At least it diverted the attention away from Kuroo, who was able to wallow in his favorite chair in peace.

He’d been wallowing endlessly for weeks now. He just didn’t like admitting it out loud. But it was true, and honestly, it hurt like hell. Every time he looked at the blank screen on his phone was like a tiny jab in the gut. His painting of Terushima was lying facedown on his living room floor because he couldn’t quite bear to do anything else with it. And Akaashi’s innocent question about the lack of bedsprings lately had sent Kuroo running like an injured deer.

He wasn’t sure what to do to make himself feel better. So for now, he was wallowing.

“So,” Tendou said abruptly, his attention unfortunately shifting back to Kuroo, “you’ve got the handsy one again tonight?”

“I have no idea who I’ve got tonight,” Kuroo replied.

“You know, likes to skip the talking and get straight to business,” Tendou explained. “She almost got you fired last time.”

Recognition dawned on Kuroo. “Miyuki from Marketing?”

“That’s the one!” Tendou exclaimed.

“I had her last week,” Hanamaki piped up. “I think I was her last, she worked through all of us.”

“She probably thinks you’re the one that got away,” Matsukawa snorted. “Her dream guy—“

“—who abandoned her for the sexy bartender,” Hanamaki finished. “She alternated between complaining about that and shoving her hand down my pants.”

“Yours is a romance for the books,” Tendou sighed dreamily. “Make the most of this night, my cactus.”

Kuroo already had a bad feeling about this, and it was confirmed when Semi stalked into the room, looked anywhere but at Kuroo, and told him that he’d be meeting his client at the same place as last time. “The bar with the morbid name,” he said pointedly before making a swift exit.

So avoiding it forever was no longer an option. Kuroo had been dodging Terushima’s calls and messages, once pretending he wasn’t home when Terushima came by. As long as he didn’t have to see him, Kuroo thought he could be strong. But unfortunately, he needed this job. And blowing off Miyuki from Marketing was a surefire way to end up in the unemployment line on Monday. He wanted to be a penniless artist in name only.

And so, it was with an enormous effort that Kuroo climbed out of his car at the Liquor Mortis and put one foot in front of the other to head for the front door. The skull and crossbones hanging over the doorway saloon-style felt a little too real at the moment, an ominous sign heralding his impending doom.

 _Stop being melodramatic_ , he chided himself.

With a final roll of his shoulders, Kuroo straightened up and pushed open the door, stepping into the bar with what he hoped at least looked like confidence.

He was disappointed to scan the bar and discover that Miyuki had yet to arrive. The same two old men were sitting at the bar, asleep over their drinks as usual. A few other tables were occupied with small groups of women who were talking and laughing excitedly. The Mad Dog was at one of the tables serving them drinks, looking like he’d rather crawl under the table than be there. And behind the bar…

Over the last three weeks, Kuroo had tried to forget just how hot Terushima was. He wanted to believe he’d just exaggerated the sharp lines of his jaw, the particular shade of his eyes, the way his ass looked _just right_ in those ridiculously tight pants.

But he hadn’t. Terushima was somehow more perfect than he remembered. God, he even made squeezing lime juice look hot. And the way those eyes snapped toward him as he walked through the door, Kuroo felt the way he had when Terushima first gave him a thorough once-over. Scrutinizing brown eyes raked all the way down his body, never stopping on one feature for too long.

And then, he looked back down at the lime he was juicing, resuming his task and pretending as though Kuroo wasn’t even there. Though it did look like he was going a little harder at the poor fruit than was necessary.

Kuroo wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted a drink, knew he probably wouldn’t be able to survive this night without one. But getting a drink meant going up to the bar, and this meant speaking with Terushima for the first time in weeks. Maybe touching his hand as Kuroo grabbed the drink. And maybe dragging him to the bathroom for a hard fuck against the wall.

Definitely not the impulse he should be having. Kuroo could feel his blood pressure rising, tempted to leave Miyuki from Marketing to her own devices and flee the country to avoid dealing with his problems. His hand was already in his jacket pocket and fishing out the cigarettes on impulse, desperate for something to distract himself. He pulled a cigarette between his lips, lit the end, and sucked in a deep breath.

It seemed that there was at least a single stroke of luck on his side tonight though, because as Kuroo stood there compulsively sucking on his cigarette, a voice from the back room called for Terushima, who left behind the murdered carcasses of his lime and disappeared into the kitchen.

Kuroo practically swooped on Kyoutani as he returned to the bar. “Nikka on the rocks and… I dunno, a Long Island, I guess,” he said around his cigarette.

Kyoutani’s expression didn’t change as he stared at Kuroo, still looking as disgusted as usual. “Where have you been?” he asked without inflection.

“Aw, did you miss me?” Kuroo crooned. He was trying to sound calm, but really, he was internally screaming at Kyoutani to _hurry the hell up before Terushima comes back, come on._

“You’re gross,” Kyoutani mumbled.

Kuroo’s telepathy was at least mildly effective as Kyoutani dipped beneath the counter to pull out two glasses. He was slower than Terushima, and he had to look in a book to get the exact ingredients for the Long Island. But at least he passed the drinks across the counter before the door to the kitchen opened again, and Kuroo was heading to his favorite table by the time Terushima had retaken his place behind the counter.

It was a painful waiting game, but at least now Kuroo could sip from his drink while he chain-smoked and pretended his phone was the most interesting thing in the world. The minutes passed slowly, and Kuroo looked up at the door almost neurotically, praying for it to open. But it never did.

The thought that he was being stood up occurred to Kuroo about 30 minutes after the time Miyuki from Marketing had said they would meet. It was fleeting at first, but after 45 minutes, it became a little more real, and once an hour had passed, he knew it was probably true. Maybe she’d gotten held up and hadn’t bothered to call the agency. Or maybe it was some kind of revenge for the last time—a particularly expensive revenge, considering she prepaid for Kuroo’s time.

And now, there was nothing to distract Kuroo from glancing at the bar. His drink was gone, and so was Miyuki’s. He’d smoked through his entire pack of cigarettes, and there was nothing new on Twitter no matter how many times he refreshed. Without Miyuki to pull his attention, Kuroo couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances toward the room he wanted to look at.

At first, they really were only quick glances thrown Terushima’s way, taking in what he could with a quick sweep and then returning to staring at the uneven grains in the table. Then he looked a little longer when Terushima was making drinks, and a little longer still when he passed the drinks down the bar. And now, no matter how hard he tried to force himself to look back at his phone, Kuroo continued to stare.

It was obvious that Terushima was ignoring Kuroo. Every time he had to turn in Kuroo’s direction, he would look over at one of the tables of squealing women instead. He looked down at the drinks, up at the ceiling, even over his shoulder behind him as he walked. It might have actually been a little bit funny…

At least, if Kuroo wasn’t wishing so desperately that he’d glance over here once. Just once. Just meet Kuroo’s gaze _once_.

The creak of the front door opening gave Kuroo a modicum of hope, but it was dashed immediately when he saw another man walk through the door. He headed straight for the bar and took a seat, asking Terushima for a beer.

There was something about the new patron that incensed Kuroo, something he couldn’t put his finger on right away. There was nothing particularly aggravating about him in general. He was just a regular looking guy really. But the way he was leaning over the bar on his elbows, the casual grin on his face as he asked Terushima his name, the sight of his tongue gliding across his lips as his eyes roved over Terushima…

He was interested.

And of course he should be, Terushima was hot as hell—a work of art, if you wanted to split hairs. Kuroo would be more surprised if the dude _wasn’t_ interested.

What was making Kuroo want to jump out of his seat was the way Terushima was responding. He’d passed the beer across the counter, leaning on his elbows in a mirrored pose as he moved a little closer to the guy. His lips were tilted up in a smirk. He said something Kuroo couldn’t hear, and when the guy responded, Terushima threw his head back and laughed.

Kuroo’s fingers curled around the empty glass in front of him as he took a deep breath. Terushima could do whatever he wanted. He was his own independent person, single, free to flirt with whoever he wanted. And if he wanted the plain looking dude in the atrocious pink polo then he was more than welcome to—

His hand was on the dude’s arm. Thin fingers were sliding over the guy’s forearm idly as Terushima spoke, and judging by the look on the guy’s face, he was as hard as Kuroo was the first time Terushima did that to him.

Kuroo was on his feet and practically sprinting to the bar before he even realized what he’d done, and for some reason, his brain thought it best to announce his presence by literally hurling his body into the bar and making as much noise as possible. The guy on the stool jumped, but Terushima didn’t seem shaken. In fact, he almost looked like he’d been expecting this. “Sit tight,” he practically purred to the shaken man across from him.

Terushima straightened up and finally— _finally_ —looked Kuroo’s way. And that smirk told Kuroo everything he needed to know.

It was all on purpose. Everything. Just to get a rise out of him.

“Another Nikka?” Terushima asked as he made his way toward Kuroo, already pulling a glass out.

“Yeah,” Kuroo tried to control the shaking of his voice. But it was impossible. He wanted a cigarette.

Terushima dropped in the ice, then filled the glass with whisky. “Looks like you got stood up. Poor thing.”

“Yeah.”

_Smooth…_

Terushima slid the glass across the bar, and as Kuroo reached for it, Terushima made sure to slide his fingers down Kuroo’s wrist. His eyes met Kuroo’s for the first time that night, and it made a shiver crawl down Kuroo’s spine.

“Maybe she realized what a fucking asshole you are.”

God, Kuroo wanted to push Terushima down and fuck him on the dirty barroom floor. The words should’ve cut a little deeper, but instead Kuroo found himself getting turned on. Maybe it was the way Terushima’s pinky was now tracing along the inside of his wrist, or the way his tongue darted across his lips, flashing that tongue ring in the dim light of the bar. Whatever it was, it was making Kuroo hard as a rock.

Everything about this night was a mistake. All the time, the effort he’d spent building up the resolve to push Terushima away, it had been broken down in less than an hour. And all Kuroo wanted to do was take Terushima by the hand and drag him back to the apartment. This was all a mistake.

So, Kuroo did the only logical thing he could think of.

He ran.

Across the bar and out the door, down the sidewalk, into the parking lot, Kuroo didn’t look back once. He threw open the door of his car and hurtled inside, slamming it shut behind him. His shaking hands fumbled through his pockets for the keys, and he dropped them on the floor twice as he tried to stick the key in the ignition. He’d barely fired up the engine when suddenly there was a knocking at his window.

He didn’t want to look up. There was only one person who would be there, and it was the person Kuroo needed to run from. He knew if he looked up, it was over. If he looked up, he wouldn’t be able to look away. But the knocking continued.

And Kuroo couldn’t stop himself from looking up, up into the face of a very confused and panting Terushima.

What a mistake that was.

He pressed the button to unlock the doors, and Terushima opened the door to climb into the passenger’s seat, slamming it shut behind him. They sat there in the quiet car, both breathing hard, both staring at each other.

“You’re gonna get in trouble for leaving,” Kuroo finally broke the silence.

“Kyoutani’s covering for me,” Terushima said. “I’m done for the night.”

“Oh.”

“Were you jealous?”

Kuroo should’ve tried to play it cool, channel Tendou again, maybe shrug it off. But instead, he immediately replied with “Yes.”

Terushima shifted closer to Kuroo, knocking their shoulders together. “So then… You’d be upset if I went home with that guy, right?”

Again, Kuroo could only manage a sharp “Yes.” He took a deep inhale. The smell of Terushima’s cologne made his head feel light.

“Then,” Terushima hummed, leaning even closer, “maybe you can take me home instead.”

Kuroo would’ve responded if he’d been given even a second more. But Terushima’s lips were on his own before he could come up with a response, and something inside him broke. Kuroo pressed into the kiss, hands reaching for Terushima desperately, one sliding around the back of his neck and the other digging into his side. And Terushima was pushing back. His teeth tore into Kuroo’s bottom lip and pulled hard. Eager hands were already working open the buttons of Kuroo’s shirt.

Kuroo’s tongue wedged between Terushima’s lips, and Terushima responded in kind. It was wet and messy, weeks of pent up desperation for each other boiling over. The leather seats groaned as Terushima leaned across the center console, pressing his chest against Kuroo’s, hungry for more contact. Kuroo let his fingers slide beneath the hem of Terushima’s shirt, pushing into the waistband of his jeans and sliding down his hipbone. Terushima’s hips canted forward on instinct. They broke away with loud gasps, breathing hard against each other’s lips.

“Fuck me,” Terushima commanded.

“Much as I’d love to do that right now, the logistics of this car don’t really work in our favor,” Kuroo panted.

“Then bend me over the trunk, I don’t fucking care,” Terushima hissed. “I want you inside me.”

“We’ll go back to my place,” Kuroo said, already settling back in his seat and throwing the car into reverse.

Terushima’s whine was childish as he tossed his head back against the headrest, but he didn’t belabor the point. Maybe he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince Kuroo to fuck him on the hood of the car. Or maybe he knew just how fragile this whole moment really was. Maybe he worried he’d wake up from the dream this had to be. So he stayed silent.

Kuroo made the drive back to the apartment in half the time it usually took, and he and Terushima were attached to one another by the time they’d hurtled up to the third floor. Terushima was aggressive, yanking Kuroo down for a bruising kiss as he shoved the taller man toward the apartment. Kuroo wasn’t even sure if they were at the right door, but Terushima was pushing him against it anyway, hands crawling down to Kuroo’s hips. The pressure was enough to make Kuroo moan as Terushima leaned into him, their pelvises rolling together in a familiar rhythm. Kuroo’s fingers carded through Terushima’s hair and pulled him closer, somehow deepening the kiss even more.

But then Terushima was turning away, peering behind him, and Kuroo couldn’t quite figure out why. He settled instead for planting kisses down Terushima’s throat. He heard Terushima mutter a faint “Oops.”

“Come on,” Kuroo whined between his kisses, sucking hard at the exposed skin.

“What, aren’t you at all concerned about your boyfriend?”

Well that was an interesting question, just barely interesting enough to make Kuroo pull away and survey the entire situation a little more closely.

Terushima wasn’t looking at him, but rather at Akaashi, who had once again appeared from around the corner at the most opportune moment. He looked incredibly irritated, and considering how late it was, that was to be expected. Maybe on another night, Kuroo would’ve asked how his day was. But then Terushima was rolling their hips together again, and Kuroo all but forgot about the irritated man. He threw his head forward into Terushima’s shoulder, moaning loudly.

“Kuroo-san, as your neighbor, I reserve my right to report you to property management for causing a disturbance in the hallway,” Akaashi said.

Kuroo didn’t even look up. “Noted,” he grunted.

Terushima pulled back suddenly, looking up at Kuroo with wide eyes and his mouth gaping. “Wait… You told me he was your fucking boyfriend.”

A sly grin tugged at Kuroo’s lips. “I say a lot of things.”

It looked like Terushima’s head might explode again. “Oh my god!” he yelled, smacking Kuroo’s arm. “You fucking asshole!”

“Aw, don’t worry babe,” Kuroo crooned as he used the momentary distraction unlocked the door. “I’ll be doing that soon enough.”

“Fuck you!”

“Yup, that too.”

Terushima was about to insult him again, but Kuroo cut him off with another kiss, pulling him through the open doorway and shutting it behind him. His teeth tugged at Terushima’s bottom lip, and Terushima moaned into Kuroo’s mouth. He tore at Kuroo’s clothes, popping buttons, throwing the fabric aside. His fingertips dragged over all the skin he could reach.

And Kuroo wanted more, wanted to feel Terushima’s hands on him again, wanted to feel the heat of skin on skin. He worked to rid Terushima of his shirt, popped open the button of his jeans and tugged them down his hips. With the major barriers gone, there was nothing to keep Kuroo from wrapping his arms around Terushima’s waist and pulling them together.

It was so hot, and Kuroo couldn’t help the low growl that rose in his chest. The noise drove Terushima wild, and he shoved Kuroo hard against the wall to grind their hips together once more.

“It’s not enough,” Terushima whined suddenly.

Kuroo didn’t have to ask what he meant, not with the way Terushima was rutting against him. Kuroo wanted to hear more. He’d missed Terushima’s noises. Sliding a hand into his boxers, Kuroo didn’t even give him a second’s warning before wrapping his fingers around Terushima’s cock.

The moan that tumbled from Terushima’s lips was feral. His fingers twisted in Kuroo’s hair and yanked hard. He was so hot, his cock practically on fire between Kuroo’s fingers. And so wet too. Kuroo dragged his thumb over the head through the mess of precum, working it over the shaft. The friction was enough to make Terushima limp against Kuroo, helpless to the older man’s touch.

“More,” Terushima gasped, the words muffled against Kuroo’s skin.

Kuroo switched their positions so fast, Terushima almost fell over. But Kuroo held him firm, wedged between his own body and the wall. He kissed down Terushima’s jaw, over his throat, took a nipple between his lips as he pumped his hand faster. Terushima was already so close, and Kuroo wanted to watch him cum. He leaned back and watched. He wanted to memorize Terushima’s expression.

And then, just as Terushima was about to cum, the wall began to vibrate, music blasting from the other side.

_The Hamster Dance._

The high-pitched techno beat was enough to kill any sexy moment, and now was no exception. Terushima’s pleasurable expression quickly shifted to confusion as he looked around him, like the source of the music might just appear through the wall.

Kuroo sighed, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to the wall. “Okay!” he shouted, making Terushima jump. “I get it! Turn it off!”

A few seconds went by, and then the music abruptly stopped. Terushima was still confused, looking up at Kuroo with his pupils blown. “What was that?” he asked in a daze.

“Revenge,” Kuroo replied. “And a not-so-subtle request for us to take this to be bedroom.”

Terushima took a little longer than usual to process Kuroo’s words, but when he did, his lips tipped up in a grin. “Fuck me,” he ordered again.

“Yes sir,” Kuroo hummed, pulling Terushima in for another kiss and dragging him back toward the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, hit me up on[Tumblr](http://thewiselearnfromhistory.tumblr.com) if you want to talk about these dorks!


	4. Chapter 4

“Why do you always make my eyebrows so weird?”

The sudden voice made Kuroo jump in his seat. For a few hours now, he’d been working in silence at his easel, concentrating on his most recent work. He’d almost forgotten there was someone else in the room with him. Turning in his chair, he looked over his shoulder toward the sight he could never quite get used to.

Terushima was tossed across the bed looking like some careless Greek deity. He was propped up on his elbows, watching Kuroo with bleary eyes. His hair was tussled and sticking up in a few places, and yet somehow it looked like he’d purposely done it that way.

Kuroo actually had to force himself to look away, or he might’ve ended up staring at Terushima forever.

“Define weird,” Kuroo said, looking at the painting again.

It wasn’t the first canvas he’d ever filled with Terushima’s image, but today’s was a little different from the others. In his previous works, he’d always caught his subject unaware. In one of them, Terushima was sleeping. Another had featured him hard at work, mixing drinks and laughing at one of the bar patrons. There was even one where Kuroo had snapped a secret reference photo when Terushima was looking at his phone. There was always something so serene about Terushima when he didn’t realize he was being watched.

But this painting was unlike all the others. It was simple, nothing overly flashy about it. Terushima was sitting on Kuroo’s bed, still dressed in his outfit from work. His legs were crossed, his body hunched over as he tried to stretch out his back. And at just the right moment, he’d looked up at Kuroo and smiled.

The night Kuroo had seen that, his heart had stopped. And he knew immediately that he’d have to paint that moment, no matter how long it took to capture it.

The real life Terishima stood up with a quiet groan, folding the blanket around himself as he drew up behind Kuroo. “You always make them so short,” he said as he reached out and trailed his finger through the air about an inch away from the wet canvas, tracing the outline of the bleached eyebrow. “Like, they’re so… Petite.”

Kuroo snorted, throwing his head back to look up at Terushima. “Babe, I hate to break it to you, but this is what your eyebrows look like.”

“They do not look like that,” Terushima scoffed.

“Why would I take artistic liberties with just your eyebrows?”

“There’s no way that’s what they really look like,” Terushima continued to argue, like if he denied it hard enough, maybe he’d be right.

Kuroo was shaking with laughter now. “Have you never seen a picture of yourself? Because that really is what they look like.”

Terushima looked mortified, and he didn’t spare Kuroo a second glance as he abandoned his blanket and ran bare-assed out of the room. A few seconds later, his anguished shouts floated down the hallway.

“Come on,” Kuroo trilled as he stood up, stretched, and followed the groans toward the bathroom. “They’re nice eyebrows.”

“There are triangles on my forehead, Tetsurou!” Terushima barked, compulsively trying to reshape them in the mirror. “Why have people let me do this for years?! Years! They’re pointed! And short!”

“I think you’re being a little dramatic,” Kuroo snorted.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“You’d be a little more threatening if you weren’t standing in my bathroom naked,” Kuroo noted.

Terushima threw him a glare, still smoothing over his brows. “And who’s the pervert admiring the view?”

Kuroo couldn’t argue with that, leaning in the doorway to watch Terushima fussing over his eyebrows.

It had been a few months since their first blow out, and Kuroo still couldn’t get over the fact that he could look at Terushima whenever he wanted. He wished he could watch the blond all the time. Even now, pouting over his eyebrows and looking like he’d just woken from the dead, Kuroo thought he was a work of art. It was why he’d become the subject of Kuroo’s paintings, why Kuroo found himself sitting up at night and watching him sleep, even why Kuroo had started to take clients back to the Liquor Mortis just to spend a little more time with him.

Of course, things weren’t always as pleasant as they were now. They’d agreed when all this started that their relationship would be casual—fun. They wouldn’t be exclusive. They could see other people if they wanted to, and when it was time to end things, it would be amicable—so long as Kuroo didn’t pull the same stunt he did last time.

But Kuroo had known from the beginning that he couldn’t do casual, and that became even more obvious when he stopped fighting the fact that he was disgustingly in love with Terushima. He knew that logically, Terushima flirted with other people because of their agreement. Akaashi scolded him enough about it to know that there probably wasn’t any ill-intent.

His brain, however, had a hard time actually believing that. He watched Terushima flirt with the men at the bar, and it felt like Terushima did it on purpose. Like it was meant to hurt him. Like Terushima was shoving in Kuroo’s face the fact that he could successfully be a casual hook up.

It was irrational. Illogical. And still, Kuroo couldn’t help but wonder if it was the truth.

“I have to go in early today,” Terushima said, cutting through Kuroo’s mindless staring. It seemed he’d finally decided his eyebrows were a lost cause and moved on to washing his face. “Saeko wants to try this ridiculous creative bartending thing she saw at a club.”

“Creative bartending?” Kuroo parroted.

Terushima rolled his eyes. “By the sounds of it, fire will be involved. Why she has decided that a blowtorch in the hands of Kyoutani Kentarou is a cause for rejoicing, I have no idea. But apparently we’re supposed to be excited about it.”

“I feel like Yahaba might actually be the more dangerous one when he controls the flames,” Kuroo retorted.

“True, he may actually light Kyoutani on fire. Their new method of foreplay.”

Kuroo just snorted, heading back to the bedroom to get dressed. “I’ll take you,” he called.

It was a short walk from Kuroo’s apartment to the bar, and driving actually took a little longer. But Kuroo made any excuse to spend extra time with Terushima. And to his great surprise, Terushima didn’t argue today. Maybe his eyebrows really had taken the fight out of him.

Kuroo was pulling into the parking lot when he heard Terushima groan. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“She looks like she’s on the warpath,” Terushima replied cryptically.

Kuroo was about to ask what he was talking about, but the answer presented itself—or rather, _herself_ —in the form of the blonde woman stomping out the back door of the bar.

Saeko was a woman like none Kuroo had ever met before. She was tiny, yet commanded authority like she was seven feet tall. And she was beautiful, too. Kuroo remembered having a crush on her when he first started coming to the Liquor Mortis—at least until he met her husband, who seemed like her polar opposite in the intensity department.

And right now, all her wild intensity was focused solely on Kuroo as she made a beeline for his car.

“God, she looks like she’s gonna kill me,” Kuroo said. “Should I, like… Go?”

Terushima seemed too preoccupied with her to answer Kuroo. “She’s not supposed to be here yet,” he mumbled, already climbing out of the car.

It seemed, as Kuroo originally believed, that Saeko wasn’t interested in Terushima. As he approached her, she juked past him, continuing her surge toward the car. Terushima was obviously trying to call her back, even following her in her pursuit. And as she rounded on Kuroo’s door, her fist rose to pound on the window. Kuroo wouldn’t have been surprised if she actually flew through the glass.

He wasn’t sure what to do now, but driving off no longer felt like an option. Facing the woman outside who, for whatever reason, looked like she wanted to tear Kuroo’s head off his shoulders seemed even less enticing. But he couldn’t just sit here, feeling like a victim in a zombie movie while she hammered on the window. So, mustering up all the courage he possessed, Kuroo opened his door and stepped out of the car.

Saeko was directly in front of him before he’d even made it to his full height. He tried to recoil on instinct, but his back tapped against the roof of the car. There was nowhere to go.

“So those women you’re always with aren’t enough? You just have to wrangle Yuuji in too?” Saeko asked abruptly, her tone accusing.

“I—“

“He won’t tell me where he goes after work, and now this week he hasn’t come home _twice_ ,” Saeko cut Kuroo off before he could even speak, raising a hand to jab her finger into his chest. “He’s a good boy, and to get caught up with someone like you—“

“Saeko, for the love of god,” Terushima darted forward, putting a hand on her shoulder and trying to pull her back.

“Don’t,” she snarled. She still hadn’t looked away from Kuroo. “So… Tell me the truth. Are you a pimp?”

If Kuroo weren’t so terrified of the tiny woman, he would’ve burst out laughing. Terushima, on the other hand, didn’t seem to fear her wrath. “Holy shit, I’m not a prostitute!” he shouted as he pulled her firmly backward.

“Tanaka-san, I… Am _definitely_ not a pimp,” Kuroo insisted.

“Then you’re a pig,” she said firmly. “Dating all those women _and_ conning Yuuji into—“

“Oh my god!” Terushima shouted. “First of all, am I not an adult who can make my own choices? And second, he is not a pig!”

“I’m not… I mean, those women aren’t my… I am _not_ seeing them,” Kuroo did his best to sound genuine. “It’s for work. I’m an… Escort.”

“An _escort_ escort?” Saeko asked, her face still drawn in a scowl. “Like the escorts you see on HBO after midnight?”

“No, no, I don’t sleep with them,” Kuroo replied. _Not anymore_ , he thought, but he didn’t say that part out loud. Didn’t need to open that can of worms. “It’s just dates. They get my company. That’s it.”

Saeko stared hard at Kuroo. He had the distinct impression that she was trying to read his mind. And then, slowly, her expression melted into something a little less harsh. The finger jabbing into Kuroo’s chest fell away. “Well alright then,” was all she said in response.

“God, Saeko, how long have you been standing there waiting for me?” Terushima asked, finally letting go of her arm.

With Kuroo out of the crosshairs, Saeko rounded on Terushima instead. “Well I’ve been waiting for some indication that you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere since the end of your shift last night! But evidently you can’t even pick up your goddamn phone to send a simple message! Too much of an effort, huh?”

Terushima rolled his eyes—a ballsy move if there ever was one. “I’m 24 years old, I didn’t realize you needed an itinerary of my daily activities.”

“You’re being a brat,” Saeko said. “I don’t need to know your every move, but updates would at least be nice. You know I worry about you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Terushima glanced between Saeko and Kuroo, his expression drawn, tense. Kuroo had a feeling this wasn’t a conversation he should be hearing. He looked away, trying to seem disinterested. If Saeko would just take a couple steps back, he’d be able to climb back into the car and peel away.

“Fine,” Terushima snapped. “I’m sorry. You’ll get updates next time. Can we please go in?”

“You can go,” Saeko corrected, waving him off. “I’ve got a few words for Mr. Escort.”

Ah. So he wasn’t free to leave yet. Kuroo probably should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. Terushima was already arguing. “You’re the one who wanted us to do this stupid creative bartending thing, you should be helping. Leave him alone. Lecture me if you want to, he has to get going.”

It was painfully obvious from Terushima’s insistence that he didn’t want to leave Saeko alone with Kuroo. Was she going to beat Kuroo up? She was a lot sturdier than she looked. And Kuroo wasn’t sure he could throw a punch. Maybe she really was going to lay him out.

“Yuuji,” Saeko said through gritted teeth. “Inside.”

Terushima wanted to argue more, that much was apparent. But it seemed even he couldn’t challenge Saeko, who was now fixing him with her intense glare. He huffed loudly, mumbling something about treating him more like an adult, but he didn’t press the point any further.

They watched Terushima cross the parking lot, looking over his shoulder every few steps to keep an eye on them. Only once he made his way inside and closed the door behind him did Saeko finally return her attention to Kuroo.

He felt the need to defend himself immediately. “Look, I really didn’t mean to—“

It seemed that Saeko wasn’t interested, as she held a hand up to silence Kuroo immediately. Kuroo swallowed his comments, waiting for her to speak.

She took a deep breath, and to Kuroo’s surprise, her expression softened. “I know I seem crazy,” she began. “I know he’s 24, he can do what he wants. But we’re family. We’ve always been close, I’ve always taken care of him. And after what happened with the last guy, I have a hard time trusting anyone with him.”

“Right,” Kuroo nodded, though of course he had no idea what she was talking about.

“He can’t even afford his own place right now thanks to that piece of trash,” Saeko spat, getting more incensed by the moment. “He used Yuuji’s credit cards and maxed them all out, he crashed Yuuji’s car, he even stole from the bar where Yuuji was working before. He _ruined_ Yuuji.”

Kuroo knew that he _definitely_ shouldn’t be hearing this. If Terushima had wanted him to know, they would’ve talked about it already. Still, he couldn’t help his curiosity. “He… Lives with you now, then?”

“With me and Aki, yeah,” she replied. “I don’t make him pay rent. And everything he makes goes toward the money he owes everyone else thanks to that piece of shit.”

“Oh…”

“Look,” Saeko continued, softening a bit once more as she looked up at Kuroo. “You don’t seem like a bad guy. And now that I know you’re not playing anyone, it’s a little better. It’s just…” She sighed, tried to think of exactly what she wanted to say. “He just doesn’t know how to do serious relationships. Either he backs off because of the commitment, or he invests too much of himself and ends up ruined. Just… Don’t you dare ruin him.”

Kuroo knew he had to answer. Saeko was staring at him, waiting for a response. But for some reason, his brain wasn’t functioning. He could barely remember how to nod.

He was saved by a chiming coming from the pocket of Saeko’s jeans, and she finally backed away from Kuroo to pull out her phone and answer it. She gave Kuroo a quick nod before pressing the phone to her ear and turning away from him. Kuroo didn’t even wait for her to be out of earshot before clambering back into his car.  

There was no way Kuroo should’ve heard all that. He should’ve stopped Saeko at the first sign of the ex-boyfriend. Terushima had never brought him up, and honestly, why should he? He and Kuroo were casual, no need to drag up memories of unpleasant relationships. Not like Kuroo wanted to meet the guy in a dark alley and mess him up beyond recognition. Definitely not. Because he and Terushima were just casual.

Kuroo dropped his head onto the steering wheel, tapping his forehead repeatedly against the vinyl. It was no wonder why Terushima didn’t want to be in a serious relationship. Why he didn’t want anyone to be dependent on him. Because the last time he let someone in, it ruined him. Casual relationships were easier. Kuroo needed to be easy for him.

Mostly, Kuroo needed to not be in love with him.

A tapping at the passenger window made Kuroo nearly jump out of his skin, and he lifted his head to see Terushima’s curious face just behind the glass. Probably the last person Kuroo needed to see right now. He waved the blond in anyway.

“I forgot my bag,” Terushima explained as he dropped into the passenger seat, picking up the duffel bag off the floor. “So what did she say?”

“What?” Kuroo asked lamely.

Terushima looked skeptically across the console. “I know you know what I’m talking about. What did she say?”

Kuroo needed to admit what he’d heard. Getting it out of the way now would be easier than lying and dealing with the repercussions later. It’s not like it was a big deal, everyone had relationships they regretted. Maybe Kuroo could tell Terushima about the girl who’d broken into his apartment at two in the morning and took a picture of him while he was sleeping. That might ease the blow.

He opened his mouth, prepared with what he was going to say.

“Maybe you could come live with me.”

Um. No. What the fuck.

Terushima’s brows came together in confusion. This time, he was the one to murmur the lame “What?”

If Kuroo had ever wished for the ability to turn back time, it was now. And of course, rather than backpedaling, he just kept right on going. “I mean, think about it,” he reasoned, his hands working nervously in front of him. “I live close to where you work. Plus you’re there all the time anyway. And I… I like your… Company.” It was all Kuroo could really admit, since _I like waking up to the sight of you_ was borderline stalker. And _I love you_ was way out of the question.

“I don’t… What?” Terushima repeated.

“It’s not a big deal,” Kuroo pressed. “You stay there all the time, it’s not like it’ll be much different. It’s gotta be closer than wherever you are now.”

Understanding swept over Terushima’s face in a slow wave, confusion shifting into a deep frown. “She told you,” he said simply.

Well, Kuroo didn’t know what to say. Because yeah, of course she’d told him. He was acting like a crazy person, so that definitely gave the game away. Playing dumb would just make everything a whole lot worse. Instead, Kuroo opted for semi-honesty. “She said you were sleeping on her couch. It can’t be fun living with married people. And you end up sleeping at my place all the time now, so—“

“No,” Terushima cut him off abruptly.

“No?” Kuroo parroted.

“No. Thanks, but no. I’m fine.” Terushima’s words were brusque, and he was already reaching for the door handle.

“What do you mean you’re fine?” Kuroo asked.

“I mean, I’m fine,” Terushima bit back. “I don’t need your charity.”

Terushima opened the door, pulling his bag over his shoulder. Clearly, he was finished with this conversation. Kuroo, however, couldn’t let it end like that. Without thinking, he reached out and took hold of Terushima’s forearm. Terushima wouldn’t look at him.

“It isn’t charity,” Kuroo insisted. “It’s not like that. I want you there. I told you, I like when you’re there.”

A few tense moments of silence passed before Terushima spoke again. And when he did, it sounded like he was choosing his words carefully. “Don’t get me wrong, your place is fine. It’s not you, I just… I can’t. I can’t… Depend on anyone. Or have anyone depend on me. Not anymore.”

“Well, you sort of depend on Saeko now, don’t you?”

It was the wrong thing to say, and Kuroo realized it a second too late when he saw the tension crawl up Terushima’s spine. Terushima turned his head slowly, angry gaze falling on Kuroo. It was a surprise that he didn’t come across the console with his fists swinging.

“Fuck you,” Terushima spat.

Kuroo’s shout of “Wait!” was completely ignored as Terushima ripped his arm from Kuroo’s grasp. He threw the door open and hurtled out of the car, slamming the door hard behind him. He didn’t look back at Kuroo once.

* * *

 

“You did _not_ say that.”

Tendou, who had previously been sprawled across Ushijima’s lap only moments before, was now perched on the edge of the couch, staring at Kuroo like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He’d noticed immediately that there was something wrong with Kuroo, and of course he demanded to hear just what it was.

And now, Kuroo wished he’d said nothing. He fidgeted in his seat under Tendou’s intense gaze, trying to pass it off as an itch. “It’s not like it’s a lie,” he reasoned. “He’s sleeping on his cousin’s couch, he _is_ depending on her.”

“Dude,” Tendou said. “Doesn’t matter if it’s true. You don’t _say_ it. Especially not to him!”

“Fuck, I _know_ ,” Kuroo groaned, throwing his head back and raking his finger roughly through his hair. “I didn’t even mean to say it, but then it was coming out of my mouth.”

Tendou leaned back against Ushijima once more, settling against his shoulder this time. “Sounds like you do that quite a bit.”

“It’s like I didn’t want him to think I was doing it because I felt bad for him, but then he said the stuff about not being dependent, and shit, I don’t know,” Kuroo said. “Like what else was I supposed to say?”

“Perhaps informing him of your true feelings would be a convenient first step,” Ushijima cut in.

Kuroo hoped his face conveyed the correct amount of skepticism. “I can’t tell him I’m in love with him hours after he tells me he doesn’t want anyone dependent on him. I might as well write my will now.”

“Death seems unlikely in this situation.”

“Waka’s right though,” Tendou said.

“Perhaps if he had a propensity for violence…”

“No, not that part, ya goof,” Tendou scoffed, shoving Ushijima’s arm. “He’s not looking for someone to depend on him, but you’re not. You’re just in love with him. That’s hella different. It’s not like you _have_ to be with him. Your survival doesn’t depend on it.”

“Yes, not like the Eastern Lowland Gorilla,” Ushijima said. When Tendou and Kuroo both looked at him in confusion, he further explained, “Because they are critically endangered. Their survival does depend on their mating.”

Tendou snorted, burrowing his face in Ushijima’s neck. “God, I love you, you dork.”

Kuroo wanted to argue, because of course it wasn’t that easy. But the door behind them opened before he could speak. Semi limped into the room, doing his best to look as composed as he usually did. But the hobbling definitely made him look a lot less intimidating. He tried to make it seem like he wasn’t openly staring as Semi approached him. “What’s up?” he asked.

“You’ve got a new client tonight,” Semi said, passing a file folder to Kuroo. It seemed even the simple action of extending his arm was too much for him and made him noticeably wince.  Kuroo was prepared to ignore it, content to let Semi retreat back to his office and leave them alone.

But the enormous grin that spread across Tendou’s face was telling an entirely different story. “Eitaaaaaaaa,” he cooed, seeming to melt even deeper against Ushijima. “You look sore. Rough night?”

The glare Semi tossed in Tendou’s direction was scathing enough to burn. “Shut up,” he snapped.

Semi did his best to limp away before the conversation could continue, but now that Tendou had gotten started, there was no stopping him. “Don’t be so withholding, Eita. Limps like that usually accompany a night that changes your life. I’m sure we all want to know—“

“Satori. Shut. Up,” Semi growled, hands balling into fists at his sides.

“Yes Satori, you are well aware of where Semi was last night,” Ushijima noted, clearly missing the teasing air in Tendou’s voice.

Tendou was beside himself, busting at the seams to try and keep from laughing. “Well sure, but he was a little too preoccupied to give me the full analysis. Now I gotta know, Eita, was it everything you hoped and dreamed it would be?”

“I’m gonna fire you, I swear to god,” Semi hissed through gritted teeth. Though he had stopped and waited, seemingly willing to indulge Tendou whether or not he wanted to admit it.

“Eita,” Tendou said, pressing a hand to his chest. “You’re hurting Waka’s feelings.”

“My feelings are not—“

“Look at him,” Tendou cut Ushijima off, laying a hand on Ushijima’s thigh. “He is wrought with grief, terrified that perhaps he wasn’t up to your world class standards. Though the screams did seem to tell a different story. Maybe if we recreate the moment, just go ahead and climb back on his—“

“Fuck!” Semi shouted, spinning around to face Tendou and wincing again. “Yes! Fine! He was amazing! Earth shattering! Life changing! I’ll never be the same! More memorable than your pencil dick, that’s for sure!”

Kuroo’s mouth fell open in shock. It was almost like Semi had forgotten he was here. Then again, he’d caught Semi dry humping Tendou like a horny teenager before, so maybe there was a silent understanding between them now. It was too hard to read Semi to actually figure it out.

That smug grin was back on Tendou’s face. “Aw, Eita, you know this pencil dick always does the job. You definitely weren’t complaining about it two nights ag- _oh shit!_ ”

He was cut off by Semi hurling a book from one of the nearby side tables at his head, missing by about an inch as Tendou ducked out of the way. Semi tried to command at least a modicum of authority as he stomped out of the room. Unfortunately, even with the stomping, there was no way to look threatening with a limp. Tendou was snorting with laughter before Semi even slammed the door shut behind him.

“It is a wonder you haven’t been fired yet,” Ushijima said.

“Forget fired! I’m surprised he hasn’t actually set you on fire!” Kuroo exclaimed.

“Whatever, he loves this pencil dick,” Tendou scoffed. “But this only goes to further my point. You gotta be honest with this guy about being in love with him.”

“What does Semi Eita sleeping with the two of you have to do with my crippling relationship failures?” Kuroo asked.

“It has _everything_ to do with your crippling relationship failures.”

“Harsh.”

“You said it,” Tendou shrugged. “But it’s like, okay. So I’ve always been honest with Waka about my feelings. Back when we first got together, and when we decided to let other people be involved, even with this stuff with Eita. I always make sure he knows how I feel. And guess what?”

“What?” Kuroo asked, since Tendou was pretty obviously waiting for a response.

“Well I’ll tell you what, my little cactus,” Tendou simpered. “In all the years we’ve been together, I’ve never accidentally said something incredibly offensive because I was trying not to say something else that definitely _should_ have been said instead of the offensive thing.”

Kuroo’s head shook instinctually in silent disbelief. “I couldn’t follow even a second of that.”

“I believe Satori is insinuating that you should tell your lover how you feel,” Ushijima said before Tendou could continue. “Our relationship is successful because of our open communication. Should I take issue with one of Satori’s whims, I tell him immediately and we make every effort to remedy the situation before one of us becomes dissatisfied.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Tendou insisted.

“So like… The two of you don’t fight? About anything?” Kuroo asked.

“I remember one fight, I think?” Tendou said. “Like three years ago?”

“About the fabric softener,” Ushijima nodded. “You were quite insistent that it was a scam by the detergent companies to make more money.”

“And I still stand by that.”

“The clothes are noticeably softer, Satori,” Ushijima said.

Tendou snorted with laughter. “Okay, so yeah, this is our biggest point of contention. Nothing close to making him feel like shit because I’m too scared to tell him I love him.”

“I’m not too scared to tell him I love him,” Kuroo tried to argue.

It was an incredibly weak argument, and Ushijima saw through it right away. “You are scared,” he countered. “Though that is not uncommon. Telling another person that you love them is when you are your most vulnerable, particularly when it is uncertain whether the sentiments will be returned. I was unsure if Satori would return my affections. But telling him the truth was the best decision.”

Kuroo was enthralled, having never heard Ushijima be so bluntly honest about something so personal. He didn’t realize he’d leaned forward in his seat. “What if Tendou hadn’t been in love with you too, though? What if you opened up to him, told him you were in love with him, and he shot you down?”

Ushijima didn’t hesitate in his response. “I would have been devastated, of course. I have always loved Satori, even before I was aware of what the feelings meant. But even still, I wanted him to know how I felt, for both of us. It was only fair to him that he be informed of the truth. And I wanted him to tell me how he felt as well. If he felt differently, then I could abandon the idea of the two of us being together romantically and begin to move on. Luckily, the feelings were returned.”

“Oh my god, Waka, I love you so much,” Tendou shouted before spinning around and practically mauling Ushijima, smashing their lips together in a feverish kiss.

Kuroo flipped open the file folder Semi had given him, trying to ignore the rather intense suction noises now coming from the couch. He perused the new woman’s details. But retaining the information seemed an impossible feat. No, he definitely couldn’t focus on anything else.

Convoluted though his explanation may have been, Tendou was right. It seemed like no matter what Kuroo did, his filter was broken when it came to Terushima. And being in love with Terushima had everything to do with it. By working so hard to keep the _“I love you”_ in check, everything else was slipping out without abandon. Until he finally admitted out loud to Terushima that this wasn’t just fun and casual for him, it would continue.

And Ushijima was right too. It was only fair that Terushima know how Kuroo really felt. He could decide what he wanted once he had the whole truth. Though Kuroo sincerely hoped the feelings would be reciprocated, at least he would finally know if they weren’t—which seemed to be the more likely outcome considering the whole codependence thing. But at least he’d know.

God, he hated how insightful Tendou and Ushijima were. And he sort of wished they weren’t feeling each other up three feet away from him right now.

Kuroo summoned up every ounce of professionalism he had inside himself for his date tonight with the new client. He couldn’t stand another night of Semi berating him, and getting fired was less of an option. So, he smiled and flirted and interested himself in the life story of the woman across from him. He was a gentleman, leaving her with a kiss against her knuckles and a pronouncement that he’d be seeing her again soon. Judging by the hushed sigh as he walked away, Kuroo was sure he would see her again before the week was up.

By the time he was back in his car, his escort façade had faded away, replaced instead with staunch resolution. Ushijima’s words reverberating in his brain were spurring him onward toward the bar. He had to do this. He couldn’t let Terushima think this was all for charity. Months spent in this limbo was long enough.

Rather than dropping the car off at the apartment like he usually did, Kuroo drove straight to the bar, pulling in at the same spot he’d been in only a few hours before. The parking lot was as sparsely populated now as it was then.

He didn’t really have a plan. There was a distinct possibility that Terushima wouldn’t even want to see him—and it would be pretty well deserved too. And on the off chance that Terushima _was_ still willing to speak to him, Kuroo couldn’t profess his undying love in the middle of the bar. So maybe going in now wasn’t a good idea. Kuroo probably wouldn’t be able to stop himself once he worked up the nerve. But then, sitting out here in his car felt even worse. Couldn’t get more stalker-ish than that. Maybe he could go in and just sit at a table away from the bar. No, that was even worse. Just intensely staring at Terushima from across the room? Especially if Terushima didn’t want to see him? It was a recipe for disaster.

Sitting in his car contemplating his next move took Kuroo much longer than it should’ve. By the time he’d finally geared himself up and actually managed to undo his seatbelt, the back door of the bar was opening, revealing a head of blond hair that was very unmistakably Terushima’s. Kuroo’s could already taste bile. Terushima had to be omniscient. How else could he have known Kuroo was here? And now he was purposefully making his way toward Kuroo’s car.

Slowly, Kuroo climbed out of the car, his eyes never leaving Terushima. It was impossible to discern what his expression meant—mouth set in a hard line, brows drawn together. Every step he took closer to the car put Kuroo’s stomach in more of a vice.

“Hey,” Kuroo said, his voice cracking inopportunely.

Terushima didn’t reply, just nodded as he came to a stop. His expression wasn’t changing, and he wasn’t speaking. Was he angry? Probably. Was he gonna hit Kuroo? Kuroo would deserve it. Or maybe it was a breakup. No, couldn’t be, they weren’t dating.

 _Fuck, if Ushijima can tell Tendou fucking Satori he’s in love with him, you can do this,_ Kuroo berated himself. Terushima deserved to know the trust. He could decide for himself what he wanted, but he needed to know how Kuroo felt. Kuroo took a deep breath, and then another for good measure, doing his best to ignore the way Terushima was watching him.

“Look,” Kuroo began. “I—“

But he didn’t even get to the third word, because at that moment, Terushima reached out, grabbed Kuroo by the collar, and pulled him down to smash their lips together in a bruising kiss. It was needy and desperate as Terushima’s tongue dipped sloppily into Kuroo’s mouth, and Kuroo’s hands moved to Terushima’s waist instinctually. Terushima was pushing Kuroo backwards up against the car, searching desperately for more leverage. His fingers were already slipping into Kuroo’s jeans.

“Fuck,” Kuroo gasped as he pulled away, his bottom lip slipping from between Terushima’s own with a wet pop. “What are you—“

“Take me back to your place,” Terushima murmured. “Now.”

Kuroo opened his mouth to argue, but then Terushima’s fingers wrapped around his half-hard cock, and instead a moan tore from his throat. This wasn’t right, he’d come here on a mission, and it was going very far off course. He was already losing himself as Terushima’s hand worked over his length, bringing him to full hardness in just a few pumps. “Yuuji,” he grunted, hips jerking forward despite himself. “Come on, gimme a sec, I gotta…”

“Tetsurou,” Terushima murmured, retrieving Kuroo’s full attention. He looked desperate, and for a moment, Kuroo wondered if it was just for the mind-blowing sex.

That look was all it took for Kuroo to throw all of his plans out the window, dragging Terushima’s face back to his own for another breathtaking kiss.

When they made it back to the apartment, Terushima wasted no time in getting Kuroo stripped down to nothing, and even before they could get to the bedroom, he dropped to his knees and took Kuroo’s cock into his mouth.

Kuroo’s fingers tangled in his hair, torn between pushing him away and forcing him deeper. Terushima didn’t wait for Kuroo to decide. His mouth was at the base of Kuroo’s cock before Kuroo could even comprehend what was happening, and his grunt filled the tiny space of the hallway. Terushima’s cheeks hollowed out as he pulled back, releasing Kuroo with a wet smack, a string of saliva hanging from his lips.

“How long do I have to wait until I get you inside me?”

Kuroo was surprised he didn’t cum all over Terushima’s swollen pink lips at those words. His brain couldn’t quite form rational thoughts, so instead, he grabbed Terushima’s wrist and dragged him back to the bedroom.

Still, Kuroo didn’t give in right away, fucking Terushima open with his tongue instead, sucking and licking and prodding while Terushima practically sobbed. Only when Terushima begged for the hundredth time for Kuroo to _just fucking fuck him already_ did Kuroo finally lube himself up and bury himself inside Terushima. It was rough and fast, all feral growls and shouts and the slam of the headboard against the wall. Kuroo left teeth marks scattered across Terushima’s shoulders, and when Terushima finally came, Kuroo cleaned the mess with his tongue.

It was only once he was sure that Terushima was asleep, under cover of darkness, with his face buried in Terushima’s hair, that he finally summoned the courage to say what he’d meant to say all along.

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thewiselearnfromhistory.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

Kuroo had the very best of intentions to tell Terushima how he really felt. Ushijima’s advice was always heavy on his mind. Terushima needed to know how Kuroo felt and decide how to proceed with their relationship from there. No use dragging out something without any future. There had been plenty of opportunities to tell him too, considering Terushima now spent almost every night at Kuroo’s apartment. Between the nights falling asleep next to each other and the mornings being oddly domestic, Kuroo definitely should have told Terushima by now.

And still, he said nothing.

To say he was scared was an understatement. He was downright terrified. Ushijima could say all he wanted that knowing the truth about Tendou’s feelings was better than limbo. But that was because they’d been returned. Could he really have said the same if Tendou decided he _didn’t_ want to be with him? If he’d had to let Tendou go?

The thought of letting Terushima go was painful.

So, when the silence fell between them, when Terushima’s gaze was on him, wondering exactly what he could be thinking, Kuroo said nothing. The words on his tongue were heavy and made his jaw ache from holding them in. But at least for now, it meant another night with Terushima, another morning waking up to him. And for now, it had to be enough.

After yet another morning of making him breakfast, sitting with him while he ate coffee, and taking him to work, Kuroo still failed to tell Terushima he loved him. There was plenty of time, especially when Kuroo took the long way to the bar to “avoid construction.” And still, he said nothing but “Have a good day.” Terushima left him with a quick kiss and a feeling of guilt sitting like lead on his stomach.

But there wasn’t time for that now. For the first time in a while, Kuroo actually had lunch plans. He’d brought along pictures of some of his more recent pieces, as was customary when he hung out with his friends from art school. They didn’t meet up often, but when they did, it was always interesting.

They’d decided a long time ago that having lunch at Kuroo’s waste heap of an apartment was out of the question. So instead, Kuroo made the drive outside the city where the skyscrapers grew less numerous and the houses just got bigger. His rusted old car was definitely out of place here, considering most of the inhabitants had enough money to hire their own drivers. He only got lost once this time before finding the huge house on the hill.

Kuroo always had to remind himself as he made his way up the winding driveway that Kai had married into money. His wife’s family owned what Kuroo believed was half of Tokyo, and naturally Kai reaped the benefits of that. Kai had done well for himself on his own too, but having a rich father-in-law to grease the wheels for him had always helped.

Kuroo parked his car near the front of the house, hefted his portfolio under his arm, and made his way up to the front door of the giant house. It was opening even before he made it up the steps.

Yaku looked the same as he always did, a certain air of smugness that he seemed to reserve only for Kuroo as he sipped at a fruity looking drink. “You’re late,” he mumbled around the straw.

“I missed you too, Yakkun,” Kuroo replied.

Yaku just rolled his eyes, stepping aside to let Kuroo in. There was a slight chance he was a bit drunk already. He had always been a lightweight.

“Kuroo!” Kai’s voice boomed as Kuroo stepped inside.

“Long time no see,” Kuroo said, slipping off his shoes. “How’s life outside the big city? I’ll bet you miss it.”

“Oh sure, actually being able to hear myself think is torture,” Kai laughed.

“I bet you can actually see the stars out here,” Yaku noted.

“Aw, come on, you can see the stars in the city,” Kuroo argued. Though really, it wasn’t anything worth arguing. He and Yaku just had a way of pushing each other’s buttons.

Predictably, Yaku rose to the bait. “You so cannot. It’s too bright, the lights block out everything.”

“Maybe you’re just not looking close enough, Yakkun.”

“Oh my god, I—“

Kai’s booming laughter interrupted their bickering. He was completely unbothered, instead gesturing for him to follow them through the foyer and into the living room. “It’s nice to see you guys haven’t changed,” he noted.

Yaku, Kuroo, and Kai had known each other for almost ten years, since their first days in art school. They’d been placed together at a table during their first Studio Art course—there’d been another girl with them, but she mysteriously disappeared after the first few weeks of classes. It was evident almost immediately that Kuroo and Yaku got along like oil and water. They were in constant disagreement about anything and everything—from the best brand of charcoals to who the hottest person in the class was to what they should eat for lunch. If Kai hadn’t been there as a mediator, they might’ve actually killed each other. But instead, they formed a weird friendship that no one really understood.

They’d kept up with one another even all these years after graduation, getting together a couple times a year for lunch and to swap life stories. Today, as they dined on food that was probably spun from gold (at least in Kuroo’s opinion), Yaku told them about his most recent trip to Paris. He’d been commissioned by a woman there to photograph her dog, and she’d basically paid to fly him out and let him stay there for a week. That was Yaku’s specialty, photography.

Kai had been busy since their last lunch as well. His specialty was installation art, and apparently his father-in-law had hired him to set up exhibits in a new building going up in the business district. Each floor would feature a different exhibit, and it was entirely up to Kai to fill the spaces with his own inspiration. He tried to act like it was nothing, but it was definitely not nothing.

Kuroo had made a point of keeping the topic of conversation away from himself, but of course it had shifted by the time they were finishing up with lunch.

“So,” Kai said, staring across the table at Kuroo. “What’s up with you?”

Kuroo shrugged in what he hoped was something noncommittal. “Not much.”

“Come on,” Yaku scoffed. “You always say that.”

“Well, I’m certainly not jetting off to Paris to paint dogs,” Kuroo teased.

“Shut up. Seriously, what’s going on with your paintings?”

“Ah, well,” Kuroo hummed, hands already fidgeting nervously beneath the table. “They’re fine. I’ve… been having a hard time moving anything lately. I had a couple commissions a few months ago, but that’s really it.”

“Well, hey, that’s still something,” Kai said.

“I’ve, uh… I’ve sort of been planning a show for next month,” Kuroo went on.

“Wait, what? You bring up a couple commissions before a show? What the hell, that’s a big deal!” Yaku chided him.

“Well, it… It sorta feels like a last hurrah, you know?” Kuroo admitted. “This is kinda my last chance. I can’t keep up with something that’s run its course. I wasn’t even gonna do it in the first place, but a friend kinda talked me into it. He, uh… He was really inspired by my stuff, and he wrote some songs to accompany some of the pieces.”

Yaku looked like he’d been slapped in the face, though that might have been thanks to the fruity but strong alcohol he’d been drinking. “I’m not even gonna start on the last hurrah crap, you should already know that’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. But someone wrote music for your paintings? Like, that’s a big deal.”

“Yeah, it was crazy,” Kuroo agreed. “His name’s probably gonna be the only thing getting people to the show in the first place.”

“Who is it?”

“Bokuto Koutarou.”

Yaku, it seemed, didn’t recognize the name. But Kai leaned forward in interest. “How do you even know Bokuto Koutarou?” he asked.

“ _You_ know who he is?” Kuroo countered.

“Mei’s parents took us to one of his performances,” Kai explained. “He’s seriously talented. He’s supposed to be pretty reclusive though.”

“Nah,” Kuroo waved his hand dismissively. “He’s actually a really chill guy. He’s dating my neighbor. We started hanging out last month, he might actually be the smartest person I’ve ever met. And his music is like… Sorta life changing? He’s a pretty life changing guy though.”

“Sounds like your neighbor better watch out, he might have some competition,” Yaku murmured.

Kuroo actually snorted. “Bo’s awesome, but he’s definitely not into anyone but Akaashi.” _Plus, I’m pretty grossly in love with someone else, so…_ Kuroo took a drink of his water, trying to clear the thought from his head.

“Well, let’s see ‘em,” Yaku said suddenly.

“See what?”

“The paintings that can inspire the reclusive but cool famous musician.” Yaku leaned forward in his seat, reaching across the table for the portfolio next to Kuroo.

“Well, I mean, they’re not—“

“Shush,” Yaku snapped.

He grabbed the folio and dragged it across the table, opening it to the first photograph. Kai actually got out of his seat and moved behind Yaku to get a good look. Slowly, Yaku paged through the pictures, stopping occasionally to tilt his head for a better look at some of them. But one page in particular made both Kai and Yaku stop to stare. Kuroo wasn’t sure where they’d stopped, especially when Yaku picked the folio up off the table to get a better look.

The seconds ticked by, and the longer they went without speaking, the more nervous Kuroo got. Usually prolonged silence when people stared at his artwork wasn’t a good thing. It always seemed to accompany a “Sorry, we’re not looking to purchase at this time” or “I’m just not sure we can afford a commission.” Pressing silence followed by rejection.

“Who is this?” Yaku asked suddenly, turning the picture around for Kuroo to see.

Oh. It was Terushima. The painting where he’d been sitting on the bed stretching his back, the one where Kuroo had caught his muted smile. The Great Eyebrow Debacle painting.

“He’s a… Friend of mine,” Kuroo replied, stalling over the words. Technically it wasn’t a lie, he couldn’t call Terushima anything else out loud. Not if he was too chicken to tell the man himself.

“These are amazing,” Kai said, looking up at Kuroo with his trademark smile. “This one’s my favorite, I think. But they’re all so good. No wonder _the_ Bokuto Koutarou got inspired.”

Yaku had turned the picture back to look at it again, and he still wasn’t speaking, just admiring Terushima’s image. Kuroo was getting uncomfortable again, now for an entirely different reason. He wanted to yank the picture out of Yaku’s hands, to stop those inquisitive eyes from roving over the page.

“Does he model at all?” Yaku asked, still not looking away from the picture.

“I don’t think so,” Kuroo said. Truthfully, he didn’t know. But he just wanted Yaku to let it go.

That was wishful thinking. Yaku just flipped to the next page, which Kuroo knew was another picture of Terushima. “Well, he definitely should,” Yaku mumbled, appraising the new picture closely. “He’s gorgeous. I mean, I’m sure some of that could be the painting. But you’ve always been good at capturing beauty.”

“Wow, a genuine compliment,” Kai marveled. “You really are distracted.”

Yaku ignored him, finally looking away from the photographs to glance up at Kuroo instead. “Would you maybe give him my card whenever you see him again? Tell him I’d really like to do a shoot with him sometime?”

“I don’t—“

“Here,” Yaku fished a card from his pocket and passed it across the table along with the portfolio. “Just have him call me. Tell him I’ll pay him. And maybe take him out to dinner. Make him breakfast too… No, wait, I didn’t mean to say that part out loud.”

“I probably should’ve cut you off after two drinks, shouldn’t I?” Kai laughed.

“I’m not drunk,” Yaku argued.

“Let’s get you some water,” Kai shook his head.

Kuroo forced a laugh, trying to look as normal as he could. Trying not to act like his stomach was in knots and his hands were shaking. Doing his best not to rip up the card while Yaku watched.

Kuroo made an excuse about an hour later to head out early, driving back into the city. Yaku’s business card was resting in the cupholder in the center console. More than once, Kuroo rolled down his window to throw the card into the abyss. It would be easy enough. He never had to bring it up again. When Yaku asked him about it next time, he’d just say Terushima wasn’t interested.

But every time he rolled the window down, it ended right back up again, the card still safely inside the vehicle. There was no reason he shouldn’t give the card to Terushima. Maybe Terushima would jump at the chance to do a shoot with Yaku. Maybe it would be the start to a new life for himself. And who knows, maybe he’d go out with Yaku and they’d fall in love and go to Paris together…

At a stoplight, Kuroo actually slammed his head against the steering wheel. Hard.

“Knock it the fuck off,” he mumbled.

His phone was vibrating on the seat next to him, and he reached for it as the light turned green. He didn’t bother looking at the number before he answered. “Yeah?” he said shortly.

 _“Woah, someone’s in a bad mood,”_ Terushima’s playful voice cooed through the speaker.

God, just the sound of his voice was enough to cool Kuroo down. “I’m fine, just dealing with some traffic,” he lied. The road ahead of him was clearer than he’d ever seen it. “What’s up?”

_“I bullied Yahaba into taking my shift, so I’m walking back to your place now. You said you had the night off too, yeah?”_

“I do,” Kuroo replied.

_“Welllllll,” Terushima purred. “I bought some… Supplies.”_

The tone of Terushima’s voice had Kuroo pushing a little harder on the gas pedal. “And what kinds of supplies might they be?” he asked.

_“Just some food for you to eat off of me.”_

Kuroo always wished at times like these that he had just a little bit more chill. But instead, all he managed to do was drop his phone and grunt a pathetic “Fuck.” He could hear Terushima laughing from underneath the passenger seat where his phone had disappeared. That could wait for now. Ignoring the muffled teasing from beneath the seat, Kuroo put the pedal to the floor and made it back to his apartment in record time.

It wasn’t until later that night that he remembered Yaku’s card. In his haste to get to Terushima and the inevitable food play, Kuroo had forgotten his phone in the car. Once he’d licked whipped cream and chocolate syrup off of every inch of Terushima’s skin, he made his way down to the car to find it.

The business card was still there, taunting him. It would have made his entire life a whole lot easier if he just ignored it. But when had Kuroo ever intentionally made his life easier? He snagged both the phone and the card before returning to the apartment, where Terushima was still sprawled naked across the bed like a Greek deity. He looked lazily up at Kuroo, lips tilting up in a grin. “Ready for round two?” he asked. “I’ve got strawberry _and_ caramel syrup in the bag.”

The thought of licking more food off of Terushima’s body was plenty enticing, and Kuroo even let himself drop back onto the bed, his tongue roving over Terushima’s collarbone. The faint sweet taste was still lingering on his skin.

“I hope that’s a yes,” Terushima hummed, fingers carding through Kuroo’s hair.

“Here,” Kuroo mumbled, holding the business card up for Terushima to see.

The card was plucked from his fingers, and Kuroo tried to distract himself with kissing down Terushima’s chest. There was a hitch in Terushima’s breathing as Kuroo’s tongue traced around a nipple.

“Who is… Yaku Morisuke?” Terushima asked. “And why are you giving this to me?”

“He’s my friend from art school,” Kuroo replied, never removing his lips from Terushima’s skin. “I showed him my paintings and he was… Incredibly taken with you. He wants to photograph you. Said he’d pay you.”

Suddenly the fingers in Kuroo’s hair were pulling, angling his head backward, forcing him to look up at Terushima. “Are you serious?” Terushima asked.

“Yup.”

Terushima’s face lit up in a blinding smile, and he leaned forward to crash his lips against Kuroo’s. His tongue was warm as it licked into Kuroo’s mouth, seeking some type of response. But Kuroo was stiff. No reaction even when Terushima tugged Kuroo’s bottom lip between his teeth. Terushima pulled away, looking notably—understandably—confused.

“Cat got your tongue?” Terushima teased.

Kuroo’s face was impassive as he stared up into Terushima’s bewildered face. Here it was, yet another opportunity to just say it. Just _fucking_ say it. He would feel much better once he did, even if it meant Terushima slamming the door behind him and never looking back.

And of course, the opportunity passed. And of course, the words that came out instead were unfiltered.

“Seemed like he wanted to do more than take your picture.”

Terushima blinked once, twice, taking in Kuroo’s words. His lips parted, but no words came out. The expression on his face was twisting into something Kuroo recognized. “So what if he does?” Terushima asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kuroo’s stomach was back in that familiar vice grip. “You’d be fine with that, then?” he asked, mentally berating himself before he’d even finished speaking.

Terushima pulled back, scooting out from underneath Kuroo and up the bed. “Well don’t hold back,” he snapped. “Say it. Ask me if I’d be okay sleeping with him for a modeling gig.”

“That’s not what I—“

“No, you didn’t say it, you’re right,” Terushima cut him off. “But you wanted to.”

“I… I didn’t… That’s not…” Kuroo spluttered. What _had_ he wanted to say? Well, it definitely wasn’t that. “Look,” he raked a hand roughly through his hair. “I wasn’t even sure if you’d want to do it. It’s not like you’ve ever done it before, right?”

“So instead of giving me his card and letting me decide for myself, you were gonna hold on to it and… What, let me keep slumming it at my cousin’s bar? Not doing anything for myself? Just being at your beck and call for the rest of my life? You’re not in charge of me!”

“Fuck, Yuuji, that’s not what I said!” Kuroo exclaimed.

Terushima didn’t respond, instead climbing off the bed and getting himself dressed. His movements were abrupt and rushed. He didn’t even bother zipping up his jeans.

“Yuuji, come on,” Kuroo tried again. He bit the inside of his cheek. This was it. The moment. It had to be. Terushima was ready to walk out. It might be the last time he got the opportunity to say it. “Yuuji, look, I—“

“Save it,” Terushima said, spinning around to face Kuroo. Kuroo recognized his expression instantly. It was the one he’d worn so many months ago, when Kuroo had told him they should end this. Like he was in pain.

“Yuuji…”

“I don’t need you, you selfish fucking prick.”

Without another word, Terushima was gone, the front door slamming shut behind him. And this time, Kuroo didn’t follow him.

It wasn’t like all the fights they’d had before. Usually, after a blowout, there was rapid-fire texting back and forth, trading insults and thinly veiled innuendo. Usually Kuroo would go to the bar and watch from a distance while Terushima pretended to flirt with a patron. It always ended with the two of them pouncing on each other, barely making it back to Kuroo’s apartment before they’d torn the other’s clothes off.

This time, however, there was no messaging. Aside from the occasional message from Akaashi or his dad, Kuroo’s phone remained silent. He didn’t message Terushima either. Because honestly, what could he say? He _was_ being selfish, even if Terushima didn’t know the full extent of it.

He’d been continually putting off telling Terushima about his feelings because he didn’t want to let go. And now, his hesitation might have been the end of it anyway. It was the worst week of his life, further compacted by the disappointment from Ushijima and Tendou as he showed up for work on Saturday night.

“That was decidedly not what we discussed,” Ushijima said flatly.

“Cactus, I’m worried you might have a problem,” Tendou admonished him.

Kuroo hoped the look he flashed Tendou was full of all the spite he felt. “I have quite a few problems, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“But… It’s been _so long_ ,” Tendou said. He was already off the couch, pacing back and forth behind it. “You’ve been with him for _so long_ , you knew you were in love with him for _so long_. Honestly, what is the damn hold up? It almost seems like you’re _trying_ to sabotage this.”

“Why would I be trying to sabotage this relationship? I’m in _love_ with him,” Kuroo rebuked.

“Perhaps subconsciously you believe that he will not return your affections,” Ushijima said plainly. He was still seated on the couch, though he’d closed the book he had open in front of him. “A part of you may be trying to end the relationship by other means before you are forced to deal with the reality of his rejection. You may, on some level, believe that pushing him away may hurt less.”

Tendou’s pacing had stopped, placing him right behind Ushijima. He looked down at the top of his boyfriend’s head in wonderment. “Always so profound. Where does it even come from?”

“I am a man full of surprises, Satori,” Ushijima deadpanned.

“He’s totally right though,” Tendou said, his attention returning to Kuroo. “You’re on defense now. It’s like the crap you pulled before where you tried to break up with him for ‘no reason’ but really you were just afraid to tell him you loved him.” He included the air quotes for emphasis.

“I… Really want to argue with you,” Kuroo admitted. “But I don’t think I can.”

Tendou snorted. “Because you know it’s true.”

“Every time I try to tell him, I freak out and start saying other shit instead and just make everything a hundred times worse!” Kuroo groaned, slouching deeper into his chair. “I literally can’t even get the words out.”

“Well, good news is you might not have to worry about that anymore, considering he probably doesn’t want to see your little cactus head ever again,” Tendou noted, climbing over the back of the couch to perch awkwardly next to Ushijima.

“Have you ever heard of rubbing salt in someone’s wound?” Kuroo asked.

“Have _you_ ever heard of just ripping off the bandaid?” Tendou countered.

Ushijima blinked rapidly, a fairly common sign that he was confused. “We have neither salt nor bandaids,” he said. “But you should know that your time to confess your feelings is rapidly dwindling. He will not be around much longer at this rate. And simply telling him how you feel may not even be enough, lest it appear half-hearted or simply an attempt to keep him from leaving. It may be necessary to perform some grand gesture.”

Kuroo’s brows knit together as he looked up at Ushijima. “Define grand gesture.”

“The definition will be up to you,” Ushijima said. “No one knows him like you do.”

“Okay, follow up, how do I do something grand if he won’t even talk to me?” Kuroo asked.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Ushijima countered.

Kuroo said nothing.

“Oh, cactus,” Tendou sighed, shaking his head. “How have you managed to make it this far with him? You’re like… Relationship illiterate.”

Even Ushijima, who usually wore the same intense yet disinterested expression, looked disappointed in Kuroo. “You will have to extend communication first. Think of it as the start of the grand gesture.”

“What if he ignores my messages?”

Tendou had finally heard enough, leaping out of his seat and coming at Kuroo so fast, Kuroo actually recoiled. Tendou’s hands held the side of Kuroo’s head and forced Kuroo to look up at him. Kuroo had never been able to read Tendou, and now was no exception. Was he about to be punched? Kissed? Little bit of both?

“Cactus,” Tendou said slowly. “Don’t ruin this for yourself. You know those impulses you have to make your life harder? Ignore them. All of them. Go to the bar, get his attention, and tell him the truth.”

Kuroo grimaced. He really didn’t want to go to the bar. What if Terushima had told someone? What if Saeko actually hit him? Or they told him to leave before he even made it through the door? Besides, that bar had never really been a central location of his feats of self-control. Whenever he was there with Terushima, they ended up in the bathroom together or in a tangle of limbs back at his apartment. How was he going to muster up enough restraint to keep his hands off of Terushima—not only that, but the courage to actually tell Terushima the truth?

Yeah, Kuroo _really_ didn’t want to go to the bar.

…

Kuroo went to the bar. His brain was screaming at him to turn around, get back in the car, and go home. But instead, he passed the bouncer with a nod and made his way inside. It was past two in the morning, and still the party was still going—though obviously winding down. The place had been growing in popularity over the past few months—Saeko’s creative bartending whims actually starting to pay off—and the bouncer had been a necessary precaution. People didn’t get rowdy often, but when they did, the goofy yet sturdy man paid off.

The bouncer excitedly waved Kuroo in without a second glance, having gotten pretty used to his face by now. Not a bad sign, at least. He hadn’t been outright banned. Kuroo’s favorite table had been taken over by a group of people who looked like they were on the most awkward group date possible, so he settled for a seat on one of the barstools at the counter. Terushima was there, ducked behind the counter grabbing for something. When he straightened up, his gaze fell on Kuroo. And a second later, he turned away, making his way to the other end of the bar with a bottle in hand.

This was to be expected, and still, Kuroo wasn’t prepared. Terushima had never flat out ignored him before. Even when they fought, there was always a glare or a snarl, followed by some light flirting with another patron—complete with coy glances over his shoulder to make sure Kuroo was still watching. But this… It made Kuroo feel sick.

Kyoutani approached Kuroo slowly, not even asking before he poured the Nikka over ice. It was a second before Kuroo realized Kyoutani was watching him closely.

“Mad dog,” Kuroo said, taking the glass and tipping it forward before bringing it to his lips.

“Don’t call me that,” Kyoutani grumbled. The usual venom in his voice was gone.

“Aw, but everyone else gets to.”

Kyoutani didn’t answer Kuroo, just continued to stare. He looked almost pensive. It was pretty unsettling, actually. Kuroo sort of wished he’d go back to being angry. At least he was easier to mess with when he was angry. And Kuroo desperately needed something to distract him from the gorgeous man at the other end of the bar staunchly pretending he didn’t exist.

“What’s wrong with you guys?”

Kuroo didn’t realize he’d been staring at Terushima’s back until Kyoutani spoke, and Kuroo tilted his gaze back to the man in front of him. His glass was still between his lips. “What?” he asked.

“You’re being weird, and he’s all depressed,” Kyoutani mumbled. “What’s wrong with you?”

Kuroo’s mouth snapped shut. He set the glass back down on the counter, spinning it idly. So Terushima hadn’t told Kyoutani. Maybe he hadn’t told anyone. “Depressed?” Kuroo repeated, latching on to the word.

“He’s not even being a dick anymore, so something’s wrong. Did you fuck up?”

“Kentarou, oh my god!”

The shout almost made Kuroo fall out of his chair, and Kyoutani looked like something had crawled up the back of his shirt. Yahaba’s sudden appearance wasn’t really surprising—he always seemed to be wherever Kyoutani was within seconds—but rather, it was the stealth of his approach. He might’ve been there for seconds of minutes. No one knew. But as Kyoutani looked over his shoulder, there was Yahaba, hands on his hips and looking pissed off.

“What?” Kyoutani asked gruffly.

“Don’t _what_ me like you don’t know what you did,” Yahaba snapped, raising a hand and pointing to the swinging door next to him. “Kitchen. Now.”

Kyoutani was mumbling under his breath, but he didn’t argue as he stumped back through the swinging door. Yahaba followed, and he didn’t even wait until the door was closed before he launched into a lecture. This was definitely not one of their “lecture sessions” that actually turned into fooling around. Yahaba was laying into Kyoutani about being more appropriate with the patrons. Kuroo actually felt a little bad for the Mad Dog.

But of course, the yelling couldn’t hold his attention for long. Not with his actual muse behind the bar, just a few feet away from him. Maybe Kuroo needed to call him over. Ask for another drink. _Grand gesture…_ He could climb onto the counter and sing a song. No, nobody would want that. Poetry then. Since feeling is first…

Kuroo was halfway through downing his drink, however, when he noticed something else. Something that made him freeze. It was the man across from Terushima, beckoning the blond to the counter with a wave of his hand. He appeared to be about Kuroo’s age, though a lot less put together, with lanky brown hair and hooded dark eyes. His toothy grin made Kuroo’s fingers curl around his glass. Plenty of people flirted with Terushima at the bar, but this was more than that. The man looked… Hungry.

If Kuroo strained, tried to block out the din of the conversations around him, he could hear what the man was saying. “Top me off, baby?” He was trying to sound seductive, though the grate of his voice was anything but.

“Sure thing,” Terushima replied. Kuroo could tell he wasn’t his usual self, though he was trying to still be friendly. He leaned across the bar to pour more gin into the man’s glass, when suddenly the man’s hand reached out and curled around Terushima’s bicep. It was a miracle Kuroo didn’t shatter the glass in his hand with how hard he slammed it down onto the counter. Terushima’s gaze flicked toward him for only a second, then back to the man.

“Excuse me,” Terushima murmured as he tried to pull away, still maintaining a calm public service façade.

“What’s the rush?” the man asked, pulling on Terushima’s arm.

Terushima tugged, trying to free his arm, but the man was stronger. He pulled Terushima further forward. The people around them weren’t paying attention, too engrossed in their own conversations to notice. But Kuroo noticed.

Terushima’s demeanor shifted instantaneously, from gracious server to angry civilian. “Let me go,” he ordered.

“You can’t flirt with me all night in those _fucking jeans_ and then act all coy when it matters,” the man said. His fingers were tight around Terushima’s arm. Too tight.

“I wasn’t flirting with you, now let me the fuck go,” Terushima growled. He set down the gin bottle and used his now free hand to try to pry the fingers off his arm.

“Maybe you just can’t help it,” the man grinned. “Slut.”

Kuroo’s barstool clattered to the floor behind him as he shot up, flying forward, darting around the other people at the bar. He never lost sight of the creep, who was reaching across the counter. Terushima was struggling against his hold. The guy’s free hand was at Terushima’s waist now, tucking into the front of his jeans…

Until Kuroo’s fist connected with his jaw.

Well, that was probably not the grand gesture Ushijima had in mind.

The man was flat on the floor in a second, the slam of his body against the wood silencing the entire bar. All eyes were on Kuroo, on the moaning man, on Terushima, who was holding his arm. The door to the kitchen flew open, Yahaba and Kyoutani spilling over the threshold.

“What the fuck?!”

That yell wasn’t Yahaba. It was Saeko, rounding the corner from the back hallway—probably coming from the little office in the back. Her calculating eyes took in the scene before her. They stopped on Terushima.

She didn’t even have to ask before Terushima began explaining. “He was trying to cop a feel. Wouldn’t let go. Tets… Kuroo stopped him before he could do anything.”

Kuroo, who had been staring down at the man venomously, snapped his gaze up to Terushima. That stung. How long had it been since Terushima had called him that? Had he ever?

Saeko was in a very obvious rage. “KOGANE!” she screamed.

The thundering footsteps of the bouncer parted the crowd, and the enormous bouncer appeared, eyes growing wider as he took in the scene before him. “W… What happened?” he asked lamely.

“You weren’t doing your job, that’s what fucking happened!” Saeko shouted. “I hired you to keep trash like this out, and yet here he is, rotting on my clean fucking floors! So you—KOGANEGAWA, LOOK AT ME, NOT HIM!”

“I’m sorry!” Koganegawa squeaked. How could such an enormous man be so timid?

“Get him out of here,” Saeko ordered.

Koganegawa complied, picking up the still-groaning man like a sack of potatoes. All the while, Koganegawa whimpered about how sorry he was. When he’d gone back outside and the quiet conversation throughout the bar resumed, Saeko turned to Kuroo.

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo said immediately, already on the defensive.

“No, _I’m_ sorry you had to deal with it at all,” Saeko countered. She was definitely not as mad as Kuroo thought she would be. “If he had his hands on my employee… On Yuuji… Well, thank you.” To Kuroo’s great surprise, she actually extended her hand. He took it tentatively. God, she had a firm handshake. Thankfully, it was over quick enough.

Then, her attention was on Terushima. He looked irritated. “You’re sending me home,” he said rather than asked.

“You’re already here past your shift, plus we’ve got an early morning. Kyoutani and Yahaba can close up.” She left no room for discussion, so much so that Yahaba didn’t even argue—though he did roll his eyes behind her back. “Tetsurou, will you take him home?”

Kuroo actually jumped, realizing that she was talking to him once more. He was nodding before he even processed the question. Terushima looked angry. Kuroo wasn’t sure if he expected that or not.

Terushima led the way outside, the late August air sitting heavy around them. Though, it definitely wasn’t as heavy as Terushima’s silence. Kuroo bit the inside of his cheek. Was it okay to say something? But before he could speak, Terushima spun to face him. His face was stretched tight into an expression Kuroo couldn’t quite place. But he knew he definitely didn’t like it.

“I didn’t need your help,” Terushima snapped.

Kuroo recoiled at the tone. “I… I know,” he found himself agreeing.

“You made a scene. _Everyone_ was staring,” Terushima continued. “I didn’t need your help and you just jumped in anyway. I didn’t _ask_ for your help.”

“I know,” Kuroo said again.

“I don’t…” Terushima paused, grimaced, almost seemed to choke on his words. “I don’t need you,” he finally said.

“I know.”

“I don’t fucking need you.”

“I know.”

Another tense silence settled. Terushima looked like he wanted to say something more, staring at Kuroo like he was going to speak again. Kuroo waited. And waited. The silence was terrible. He wanted Terushima to yell. To scream. To close the space between them and punch Kuroo across the jaw.

Anything but the silence.

Terushima finally looked away, climbing into the unlocked car. He didn’t speak the entire drive back to the apartment, said nothing as he ascended the stairs ahead of Kuroo, didn’t say a word as they went to the bedroom. The bedsprings creaked as they climbed in next to each other. Not touching. Not looking at each other. Just staring resolutely at the ceiling in the pressing silence.

And all Kuroo could think about was how royally he’d managed to fuck up. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thewiselearnfromhistory.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

Kuroo didn’t get any sleep that night. He just stared out the window, listening to the creaks and groans of the building and the occasional distant conversation outside. He got up once when the sun was coming up to use the bathroom, and when he crawled back into bed, he saw Terushima wide awake, staring resolutely at the ceiling too.

God, he wanted to say something. Anything. It could be stupid, a fucking anecdote about the weather even. Where were his asinine comments when he needed them? Every time he opened his mouth, nothing came out, and he shut it without saying a word. This was the worst. He was the worst.

Normally the buzz of his phone at 10:00 in the morning would have irritated Kuroo to no end. But this morning, it was honestly a welcome relief. It tore him from the bed, made him murmur a quiet “I’ll be back” to Terushima, and allowed him to leave the oppressive silence of the apartment behind.

Only once he’d made it to the safety of his car did Kuroo finally call the number back. It made it through half a ring before the voice broke over the other end.

_“Jeeze, you’re harder to wake up than Akaashi!”_

Bokuto’s voice was a little too loud and Kuroo had to pull the phone away from his ear. But it wasn’t like he could ever get mad at Bokuto. Like, literally ever. “I wasn’t sleeping, just… Trying not to wake up Yuuji.”

_“Oh… Did… Did I wake him up?”_

It was such a drastic change in volume, Kuroo almost didn’t hear him. “No, it’s all good, he was still asleep.”

_“Oh god, okay, good. So… Can I come over? Or should I wait until you’re done?”_

“Dude, we’re not doing anything, I said he’s asleep,” Kuroo insisted.

_“Yeah but you guys do it like every morning right? I can wait, I don’t mind.”_

“I’m literally pulling out of the parking lot to come get you,” Kuroo said. “Twenty minutes.”

_“Woo!”_

And true to his word, Kuroo pulled up in front of the apartment complex exactly twenty minutes later. Bokuto was standing on the curb, rocking back and forth lightly on the balls of his feet. His face lit up when Kuroo stopped in front of him. God, it was no wonder Akaashi had fallen for him. The guy was like the human embodiment of the sun. And he was holding a grocery bag that looked full to the brim.

“What’s in the bag?” Kuroo asked as Bokuto climbed into the passenger seat.

“Breakfast!” Bokuto replied, holding the bag up for emphasis. “You and Akaashi never have anything to cook, so I bought stuff to bring along.”

Kuroo scoffed as he pulled back onto the road. “I have stuff to cook.”

“Yeah, but I can’t make anything with artichoke hearts and corn syrup.”

“I think the artichoke hearts are gone actually.”

“Good thing I came prepared,” Bokuto laughed.

Kuroo just hummed, letting Bokuto go renegade to talk about how much he hated artichokes and the one time when he was sixteen that he ate them and threw them up on Suga’s mom’s expensive rug. It was nice to have the constant stream of conversation. Anything to distract Kuroo from the most pressing problem at hand.

“Kuroo, can you hear me?”

Oops, that wasn’t a good sign. Kuroo glanced sideways at Bokuto, who was watching him, intense gaze slipping over his face. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Are you okay?” Bokuto asked. “Did… Did I do something?”

“Nope, I’m fine,” Kuroo tried to sound as sincere as possible. The last thing he wanted was to make Bokuto—the actual ray of pure sunlight—feel bad. “Artichokes. Nasty. I don’t like ‘em either, that’s why they were in my pantry for about five years.”

“Ew, did someone eat them?”

“I think maybe Hinata asked if he could have them.”

“Oh my god, and you just let him eat them?”

Kuroo shrugged. “The shrimp’s gut can handle it.”

The ride back to the apartment felt like it took about five minutes. And even worse, once they were inside, Bokuto disappeared into the kitchen to start on the breakfast and coffee. Kuroo had no choice but to return to the bedroom.

Terushima was already sitting up with his back to Kuroo. Nothing ominous about that at all. He lifted a hand to rake through his hair, then dropped the hand heavily back onto the bed. Kuroo watched his every movement, completely enraptured.

_Say it. Fucking say it._

“I have to get going.”

Kuroo’s mouth was open, the words sitting heavy on his tongue. But Terushima was quicker. He glanced over his shoulder to peer at Kuroo. God, he looked so tired. The bags under his eyes were a dead giveaway.

“Yeah,” Kuroo managed. “Sure. I can… Give you a ride.”

“It’s fine,” Terushima said. “Koutarou’s here. You can’t just leave him.”

“Well, I can, plus Kaash’ll be here with him.”

“I said it’s fine.”

Kuroo was hoping for a bit sharper of a response, something akin to a fight. He wanted Terushima to yell at him, come across the room at him. Just… Something. But Terushima sounded empty. Like there was nothing left. And when he stood up from the bed and headed for the bathroom, he ghosted past Kuroo without a glance.

Oh. That hurt the most.

The sound of his front door opening and closing let Kuroo know that Akaashi was here. Akaashi would see through him in a second. God, this was a disaster. He wanted to climb out the window. But that wasn’t an option. It didn’t open wide enough for him to fit. So instead, he took a deep, steadying breath and slowly made his way down the hall and into the living room.

“What do you hear them doing?” he heard Bokuto ask, his voice suggestive.

“Kuroo-san and Terushima-kun’s sex life does not need to—“

“What’s this about my sex life?” Kuroo asked as he swooped into the room, interrupting Akaashi mid-sentence. “I mean, don’t let me interrupt. Go on. I’m intrigued.”

The look of utter revulsion Akaashi shot him was one for the record books. “You’re intrigued about your own sex life?” he asked.

“Oh, always,” Kuroo said, putting on the most natural-looking smile he could as he dropped into the only comfortable chair in the room. Two pairs of inquisitive eyes were now searching Kuroo, and he knew immediately that he was fucked. They both were too sharp to let his fake demeanor go without saying anything.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Bokuto repeated.

“I told you, I’m great!”

Yeah. That was the least convincing he’d ever sounded. It was apparent that Akaashi wanted to say something too, but thankfully Terushima’s sudden appearance stole the attention from him. Kuroo tried not to obviously stare at him as he shuffled into the room and sat down next to Bokuto, clutching a cup of coffee like it was his lifeblood. But it was like trying not to breathe. He couldn’t tear his gaze from Terushima, not even as the quiet conversation of work began. He barely heard Bokuto and Akaashi. They were like white noise.

It wasn’t until Terushima made a comment about suffering at work that Kuroo finally decided to speak up. Well, not really decided. His mouth started moving of its own volition. “I told him he should just quit and become someone’s trophy husband.”

_What the fuck—what the FUCK?!_

Terushima’s mouth twitched, fingers curling tighter around the mug in his hands. “Wouldn’t that be nice,” he replied, obviously trying to sound nonchalant.

Kuroo wanted to punch himself in the neck. And he only felt worse when Akaashi’s gaze turned on him, searing him with a silent question. All Kuroo could do was smile, though honestly it felt more like a grimace.

“Okay,” Terushima groaned, setting his now empty mug down on the table as he stood up. “I have to go. Will you be by tomorrow, Koutarou?”

“Maybe!” Bokuto said, smiling his little half-smile up at Terushima.

The smile Terushima returned to him was wrong. It was so wrong. That wasn’t his real smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll hang out if you are,” he vowed. Then he turned his attention on Kuroo. Was he gonna ghost again? Kuroo couldn’t handle it a second time. But to his great surprise, Terushima leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his lips.

God, it was like fresh air. Kuroo wanted to grip Terushima’s hair, pull him in deeper, kiss him forever. But it was the briefest of contact before Terushima was pulling away, leaving Kuroo desperate for more.

“I’ll see you later,” Terushima murmured.

It was a wonder Kuroo could still speak. “I told you I could give you a ride.”

“It’s like three blocks. I need to wake up, anyway,” Terushima countered.

Kuroo wanted to argue. It would be easy enough to follow him out the door. Maybe he could even convince Terushima to get into the car. But instead, all he managed was, “Yeah… Alright.”

Terushima turned and headed for the door. For a moment, Kuroo was filled with panic. What if this was the last time Terushima ever walked away from him? Would Kuroo ever get this chance again? What if this was it? He had to do something. He had to say it. _Fucking say it_.

But then Terushima was gone, the door closing quietly behind him.

“Well?” Akaashi asked suddenly.

Kuroo realized with a start that Akaashi was staring at him once more. “Well what?” he tried. It was futile. Akaashi’s glare was proof enough of that. Kuroo closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair, heaved a sigh. “I dunno, I guess it’s just the same as usual, isn’t it? Head over heels for a guy who just wants to be casual.”

Akaashi _still_ wasn’t convinced. “Well, what’s bringing on this bout of self-awareness?”

Fuck, well, time to bite the bullet. “Well… There’s a chance I caught some dude harassing him at the bar last night. And… I might’ve punched him.”

This was another look for the record books, though this time Akaashi was staring with dumbfounded shock. “Oh my god,” he mumbled.

“What was I gonna do, let the guy climb over the bar for him?” Kuroo asked defensively.

“That’s what the bouncers are for,” Akaashi retorted. “I know that bar has them, you’ve told me stories.”

“Well, he wasn’t quick enough.”

“Did you get kicked out?” Bokuto cut in.

“No, the manager actually thanked me,” Kuroo said. “But… Yuuji was kind of upset. He told me he could’ve handled it on his own, and I made a scene.” Kuroo leaned forward, hands working busily in front of his face, like they might help him make sense of this mess. “I mean, I get it. I _did_ kinda make a scene. But… I wasn’t really thinking.”

“Clearly,” Akaashi scoffed.

“Thanks, ‘Kaash.”

“Did you guys fight about it?” Bokuto asked.

“No, I could’ve dealt with a fight. We bicker all the time,” Kuroo replied. “He was so… Quiet. He didn’t really say anything. I brought him back here, since it’s closer than his apartment. And we didn’t talk. Like, at all. We just kinda laid there for a while. I don’t think we’ve ever gone so long without talking.”

Akaashi now looked like Kuroo was the dumbest person he’d ever met. “You know, that would’ve been the perfect opportunity to profess your love for him.”

“When he was furious with me?” Kuroo asked.

“If he was _actually_ furious with you, he wouldn’t have come back here, or at the very least he would’ve slept on the couch,” Akaashi explained, sounding like he was telling Kuroo about basic arithmetic. “I know you like to paint me as someone who is relationship illiterate. But it seems like there was something else both of you wanted to say, and neither of you knew how to say it.”

“Yeah, like they were waiting for the other person to start talking, but then the other person was waiting for that too, so no one said anything,” Bokuto added.

“Exactly.”

Kuroo growled in annoyance, throwing an arm over his face. “Well how the hell was I supposed to know that?!”

“Hey, why _don’t_ you just tell him that you love him?” Bokuto asked.

For some reason, that made Kuroo angry with Akaashi, and he hoped the glare he shot Akaashi’s way conveyed that. They’d had this conversation more than once before. “It’s complicated,” Kuroo launched into his tried and true explanation. “When we started this whole arrangement, it was casual. We’ve been off and on, just based on convenience. And I had to fuck it up by catching feelings. He clearly has no interest in being exclusive, since he’s been flirting with other people. So I’ve contented myself with being a side piece. It’s better than not having him at all. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“But you’re not fine,” Bokuto pointed out innocently.

“You punched someone because of him,” Akaashi added.

Kuroo’s glare softened a bit, shifting from anger to consternation. Being grilled by the two of them together was frustrating. “I’m fine. I mean, I will be. This is fine. What we’ve got is fine. It’s good.”

“Do you love him?”

Kuroo was taken aback by Bokuto’s sudden question, his mouth falling open in surprise. “I… Yeah.”

“You love all of him? Everything? All the pieces?” Bokuto continued.

“Yeah,” Kuroo nodded.

“Well, if you love all of him, then you’re never gonna be happy with just a piece of him,” Bokuto reasoned. “And yeah, it’s kinda scary thinking about changing things or messing them up, but you won’t really be happy until you tell him. And I mean, I also don’t think he’d hang out here all the time if he just wanted you to be a… Side piece?”

Kuroo realized his eyes had widened and his mouth had fallen open again. Why did Bokuto have to be right? Because Kuroo didn’t even have to think about it. He’d heard some of this advice before, from people who were also in a healthy, happy relationship. He’d known then there was some merit to it. But now, hearing it a second time, and hearing that Terushima probably wouldn’t still be here if he didn’t feel the same…

Kuroo tried not to pull a grimace when he returned to reality and found Akaashi pressing a kiss to Bokuto’s jaw. “God, you guys really _are_ happy and shiny,” he huffed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I… I know you’re right. I get it. But… God, I’m scared.”

“Yeah, but it’ll feel a lot better once you know for sure,” Bokuto noted.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Kuroo actually looked up and smiled. “You know, this advice is starting to sound eerily familiar,” he said, staring pointedly at Akaashi. The two of them had heard it from Kenma as well, months ago when Akaashi had been agonizing over his relationship with Bokuto.

Akaashi clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Yes, well, at least _one of us_ has heeded it. And I’m happier and shinier for it.”

“Yeah… Yeah you are.”

Kuroo leaned back in his chair again, dragging his hands over his face. He sort of wished there weren’t two inquisitive pairs of eyes watching him, but hey, he’d invited them in. Thankfully, Bokuto suggested putting on a movie and about four minutes in, Akaashi was asleep with his head on Bokuto’s lap. All of Bokuto’s attention was focused on the movie, which finally gave Kuroo some reprieve to think without being stared at.

Because honestly, for as many times as he’d said that it might be “the end” for them, he knew that really, this was probably it. The silence, the ghosting, the emptiness in Terushima’s voice, and that kiss goodbye—there were no more fuck ups available. Terushima was exhausted, tired of fighting… Whatever this was. Bokuto was right. Kuroo had just been too stupid to see it. Terushima had stuck around, waited for Kuroo to nut up and just _fucking say it._ He wasn’t going to wait anymore. This was Kuroo’s last chance to get this right.

And he _had_ to get it right.

 

* * *

 

When the movie was over and he’d dropped Akaashi and Bokuto off at Bokuto’s apartment, he fired off a message to Terushima.

_> >[Kuroo]: Can you come by my place tonight when you’re done with your shift? We need to talk._

The message he got back was almost immediate.

_> >[Terushima]: Saeko’s making me leave early, so I’ll come by around 8:00._

Perfect. Just enough time to improvise.

By the time there was a knock at the door, everything was in place. He threw the door open a little too quickly and it slammed against the wall. He’d for sure have to calm down. But the sight of Terushima actually standing outside his door was already making Kuroo’s hands shake. Sure, he looked exhausted, and the empty stare he gave Kuroo made Kuroo’s stomach ache. But he was here.

“Thanks for coming,” Kuroo said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Terushima said nothing as he shunted past Kuroo, sliding off his shoes and stepping inside the apartment. He didn’t make himself comfortable, didn’t even sit down, just stood there in the middle of the living room with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Kuroo had never seen him look so uncomfortable.

“Tetsurou,” Terushima murmured. He wasn’t looking at Kuroo. “I think… We should—“

“Can I paint you?” Kuroo cut Terushima off. He couldn’t let Terushima finish. He had a plan. All his earlier fears were gone, because honestly, what did he have to lose?

Terushima turned to face Kuroo. He looked confused. It was better than emotionless at least. “Paint me?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” Kuroo nodded. “I just… I really want to paint you.”

There was a beat of silence, and Kuroo wondered if he’d be rejected outright. But to his surprise, Terushima asked, “How do you want me?”

Kuroo wanted to shout with relief. “However you want,” he said quickly. “I, um… I guess maybe take the shirt off. The less clothing the better.” A quirk of Terusima’s eyebrow had him backpedaling. “Oh god, not like that, I just… Crap, just do whatever you want. I have everything set up in the bedroom.”

He didn’t wait for Terushima to follow him as he headed back into the bedroom. It wouldn’t have surprised him to hear the front door open, heralding Terushima’s final walk out of his life. But instead, he heard footsteps headed down the hallway toward him. His mouth went dry when Terushima stepped in, clad only in his underwear. His shirt and pants were tucked neatly over his arm. It took quite a bit of Kuroo’s restraint not to push him against the wall and kiss him breathless.

He was headed for the bed when Kuroo finally collected himself. “Actually, can you stand?” he asked. “It’ll be easier.”

Terushima already had a knee on the mattress, and he peered over his shoulder at Kuroo in confusion. But he didn’t question it, instead setting his clothes down on the bed and standing in the middle of the room a few feet in front of Kuroo. He looked so awkward, and he wasn’t saying anything. He’d never been so silent.

Kuroo said nothing as he turned and grabbed the first tube of paint on the little table next to him, along with a sponge. Terushima was watching his every move as he approached. There was no canvas, no easel, no sketchbook, nothing on which Kuroo would be painting. And he seemed to realize it about two seconds before Kuroo squirted the paint onto the sponge and dabbed a smear of red against his chest.

“Tetsurou, what the fuck!” Terushima shouted in surprise, a shiver working down his body.

“It’s body paint,” Kuroo noted, holding up the tube.

“Okay, fine, but what the fuck are you doing?”

“I told you,” Kuroo said, dropping to his knees for a better angle and adding a little more paint to the sponge. “I’m painting you.”

Terushima pursed his lips, holding in whatever argument he had. He shivered again when Kuroo pressed the sponge to his skin. Whether it was because the paint was cold or he was just sensitive, Kuroo didn’t ask. He was too engrossed in his work.

He’d purposely started with the red. It was the first color he’d felt when he was with Terushima—passion, heat, intensity, a shock of red permeating his brain and making him feel invincible. He worked the paint across Terushima’s chest, down his abdomen. It looked like nonsensical lines, but he knew what was coming.

When he’d finished with the red, he grabbed a new sponge and the tube of orange paint. Terushima just watched him, stared down at the colors sprawling across his torso.

Kuroo blended the orange in with the red, alternating between the sponge and his own fingers to get it just right. Next came the yellow, a little harder to blend than the orange. He ran out of clean fingers and started blending with his knuckle.

“Tetsurou…” Terushima murmured.

Kuroo looked up and met Terushima’s gaze. His lips lifted into a muted smile. “Do you remember that morning, a few months ago, when you woke up and caught me staring at you?” Kuroo asked.

A look of recognition crossed Terushima’s face, and he nodded. Of course he remembered. He’d called Kuroo a creep when Kuroo couldn’t tell him why he was staring.

“Well,” Kuroo said, resuming his delicate work of tracing lines of yellow over Terushima’s abdomen. “The sun was coming up. And for a while, I was just watching the sunrise. It was so nice. And then, I started watching you. And the sun was coming up just behind you, it almost looked like you were glowing. You asked me why I was watching you, and I couldn’t say. Do you know why that was?”

“Of course not,” Terushima sighed. “Because you wouldn’t tell me. You never tell me what you’re thinking.”

Kuroo looked up at him again, and he felt his breath hitch. Terushima was so beautiful. Kuroo just wanted to stare at him for the rest of his life.

_Fucking SAY IT._

“I was thinking about just how much I loved you.”

Terushima audibly gasped. His chest heaved, like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. “Tetsurou,” he choked.

Kuroo had to look away. He would lose his senses if he stared for too long. Leaving Terushima to get his breathing back to normal, Kuroo stood up to grab the next color—a vivid shade of violet.

“And you know,” Kuroo said as he returned to his spot kneeling in front of Terushima, “I think I’ve loved you since I first met you. I think I didn’t really want to believe it, but it seems like one of those ‘love at first sight’ kinda deals.”

“Is it because I sucked you off in the bathroom?” Terushima asked, a note of teasing in his voice.

Kuroo laughed. “Before that. When you told me that Miyuki from Marketing was probably just playing me. I think I loved you then.”

Terushima shivered again when the newest color of paint touched his skin. “And you never said anything?” he asked.

“I think I didn’t want it to be true for a while,” Kuroo admitted. “I wanted to be as casual as you needed me to be. Especially when your cousin told me about the garbage ex.”

“God damn it, Saeko, I knew she fucking did,” Terushima huffed.

“You needed something casual,” Kuroo repeated. “You needed someone who wouldn’t depend on you. You’d been saying that from the beginning. I tried to keep being casual. And when I realized that wasn’t me, that I couldn’t be that for you… I guess I got scared. I didn’t want to lose you. I thought maybe I’d spook you. If you thought I was in too deep, maybe you’d run.”

Terushima said nothing. Kuroo had a feeling it was because he was right. He began working on blending the violet in with the yellow. It turned out more beautiful than he could’ve ever hoped. Though maybe that was thanks to the canvas.

“So why aren’t you afraid to tell me now?” Terushima asked a few minutes later.

Kuroo looked up again, making sure he was looking Terushima in the eyes before he spoke. “Because I think… I think my time’s up. I think you’re just about done. And rightly so. But I couldn’t let you go without knowing the truth.”

Terushima’s mouth is drawn in a tight line. “If you’re saying this to make me stay, then—“

“It’s not that,” Kuroo cut him off. “If you choose to go, then I won’t stop you. And do you know why that is?”

“Why?” Terushima asked.

“Because I don’t need you.”

Terushima breathed in sharply through his nose. “But you love me,” he said pointedly.

“Sure do,” Kuroo nodded. “But I don’t need you. Someone a whole lot smarter than me made sure I knew that. That being in love with you isn’t the same thing as being dependent on you.”

“So you talked to people about me?” Terushima asked, a strange air of smugness in his tone.

“Well, I’m in love with you, so yeah,” Kuroo admitted with a grin. Terushima shoved his forehead and he actually laughed. “But we don’t need each other. I don’t need you, you don’t need me. You could walk out the front door, go back to your life, leave me to mine. It’d be hard for a while, but the earth’s not gonna stop turning. We’d move on. We’d be fine… And that’s why we should be together.”

“Because we don’t need each other?” Terushima repeated.

“Yup,” Kuroo agreed. “Because we don’t need to be together, and we love each other anyway.”

“Who ever said I loved you?” Terushima countered.

Kuroo actually snorted at that. “Please, you love me and you know it,” he scoffed. “Also, I’m finished.”

Terushima looked down at the paint on his stomach. “It’s… A sunrise,” he murmured, the words catching in his throat.

It wasn’t just any sunrise though. It was the sunrise as Kuroo remembered it from that morning months ago. Every detail he could scour from his brain, every color he could see when he closed his eyes. The sunrise that he watched from behind Terushima’s sleeping form. When he realized that he wanted to wake up every morning to that view.

“I love you.” Terushima’s voice was shaky, unsure, but he spoke the words without hesitation. When Kuroo looked into his eyes once more, it was plain to see that he meant them.

“I love you too,” Kuroo replied.

Terushima dropped to his knees, his hands cupping Kuroo’s face. His eyes were shining, like he was bordering on tears but refused to let them fall. “I sure as hell don’t need you though,” he said.

This time, Kuroo’s laugh boomed through the room. “I don’t need you either,” he replied.

Terushima didn’t waste a second, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Kuroo’s in a heated kiss. Kuroo could feel nails digging into his cheeks, could feel the desperation in the kiss. Like everything Terushima had been feeling these past few days was surging into it. And Kuroo could feel himself pushing back. He dragged his tongue along Terushima’s, relishing the muffled moan he felt against his lips.

His hands reached blindly for Terushima, finding his hips, dragging him forward. Terushima gasped as Kuroo pulled them flush together. “The paint, it’s… You’ll ruin it,” he murmured.

“Good,” Kuroo replied. He slid a hand up Terushima’s chest, feeling the wetness collect between his fingers. The paint smeared up Terushima’s torso, over his neck, up his cheek where Kuroo’s fingers stopped.

“Tetsurou,” Terushima sighed, leaning his forehead against Kuroo’s. “I love you.”

“I know you do,” Kuroo grinned.

Terushima shoved against Kuroo’s shoulder, but it only made Kuroo laugh. He never thought he’d believe in love. And for a long time, he didn’t _want_ to believe in it. But now, he had to admit. It wasn’t so bad.

 

* * *

 

Kuroo had been so nervous for his art show, he’d never allowed himself to consider the fact that it might actually go well. Of course, the draw of a name like Bokuto Koutarou playing music inspired by the pieces probably had something to do with it. But he really didn’t expect anyone to be interested in his paintings.

So, when the gallery actually filled up; when people were walking the floor, talking about his art, appreciating every detail; when they swarmed him with offers, desperate to outbid one another, asking if they could commission him for something made personally for them—he wasn’t sure what to do.

And he really hadn’t meant to well up with tears.

Everyone else was otherwise occupied—Akaashi was behind the curtain watching Bokuto play, Terushima was making more drinks, Yachi and Kiyoko were chatting up people in the corner, and Hinata and Kenma were nowhere to be seen. Kuroo was on his own, and rapidly losing his ability to hold the tears in.

The woman in front of him was taken aback, her hands waving in front of her like she might somehow be able to turn back the clock. “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. “Please, if it’s not enough, I’ll pay more! And the timetable is very loose, it’s just for my own personal use! I… Oh, please don’t cry, because then I’ll start crying, and it’ll just be bad for everyone involved!”

Kuroo didn’t want to cry in front of the beautiful woman offering him the equivalent of three-month’s salary at the escort company just to paint something original for her. He tried to say something that might convey his gratitude, but all he managed was a croaked, “I love you!”

“I believe what my darling cactus here means to say is a profound ‘Thank you,’” a voice behind him said brightly.

Kuroo had never in his life been happier to see Tendou Satori draw up next to him.

“Yes,” Kuroo gasped, swiping harshly at his face. “Yes, thank you, thank you so much. I’d l-love to paint something for you.”

“Y-you’re welcome! And thank you!” the woman squeaked. She pressed a business card into Kuroo’s hand and backed away as quickly as she could without tripping over her dress.

“I’m always amazed you’ve made it as an escort this long,” another familiar voice said from behind Kuroo. “Considering how often you manage to scare the women or piss them off. What even is your appeal?”

Kuroo turned to find Semi drawing up to him, looking about as chipper as usual with his arms crossed over his chest. “Come on,” Kuroo sniffed, willing the tears to stop. “I’m a regular charmer.”

Semi quirked a brow in response. “You’re literally weeping. That woman looked like she wanted to sink into the floor.”

“To be fair, he still got her number,” Tendou noted. “Maybe that’s his charm. Terrifying intrigue.”

“You’re an idiot,” Semi rolled his eyes.

Tendou’s mischievous grin crossed his face, and he slunk forward in what he probably thought was a suggestive walk—though he looked more like an awkward ostrich. “An idiot that _you_ can’t get enough of,” he simpered as he approached Semi.

Semi probably wanted to step back, but his pride kept him rooted to his spot, staring up at a now looming Tendou. “You’re so gross,” he huffed.

“So gross that you woke me up this morning sucking my—“

“SATORI!” Semi shouted with a shove against Tendou’s chest, though he wasn’t loud enough to drown out Tendou’s manic laughter.

Kuroo was laughing too. “I’m so glad you three are happy together,” he said.

“Of course you know,” Semi rolled his eyes again. “Because my life required one more complication.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not at all subtle, so…” Kuroo trailed off. He probably shouldn’t push his luck too much with Semi, since he still planned on keeping his job for a while. “Oh, speaking of three,” he said, finally noticing what was off. “Where’s Ushijima.”

Tendou jerked his chin to a spot over Kuroo’s shoulder. “Talking to the object of your affection.”

Kuroo whipped around so fast, he almost fell over. There was Ushijima, standing at the drink table with a wine glass in his hand, immersed in conversation with Terushima. Ushijima’s face was unreadable as usual, but Terushima looked amused.

“Oh my god, what are they talking about?” Kuroo asked.

Semi actually snorted behind him. “Oh probably just their investment returns,” he quipped.

“Waka did once tell me he wanted to meet the man who could make you believe in love,” Tendou noted.

Kuroo looked over his shoulder, and then immediately wished he hadn’t. Tendou had wrapped his arms around Semi’s waist and was whispering something into Semi’s ear. And judging by the way Semi was biting his lip, he was getting pretty into it. “Don’t you have a car where you could be doing this? Or a home? Or anywhere that’s not in front of me?”

“We wanted to support our friend in his endeavors!” Tendou said brightly as he pulled away from Semi’s ear. “And Eita-kun is nervous that you’re leaving us to be a hotshot artist.”

“I’m not nervous,” Semi snapped. “He can do whatever he wants.”

“So strong, Eita!” Tendou said dramatically, slapping a hand over his chest. “So brave!”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“Kuroo.”

Kuroo snapped his head back to find Ushijima standing directly in front him. How could someone so large be so quiet in his approach? “Hey,” Kuroo mumbled. “What’s up?”

“Terushima Yuuji appears to be a fine young man,” Ushijima said without preamble.

Well, that was not what Kuroo had expected him to say. Then again, Kuroo never knew what to expect when it came to Ushijima. “Um… That’s… Thank you?”

“Waka, you sound like a grandpa,” Tendou laughed.

“Don’t tease him,” Semi snapped.

“Ooh, well maybe I should just tease you then” Tendou trilled.

“Satori, I—fuck, don’t do there here!”

“Oh my god,” Kuroo grumbled. “I’m walking away before you start fondling each other.”

“They appear to be far past fondling,” Ushijima noted as Kuroo passed him.

Kuroo said nothing, making a beeline for the drink table instead. Terushima was already pouring a whisky on the rocks and passing it across the table to Kuroo when he approached. “I hope Ushijima didn’t say anything too weird, he’s not exactly known for mincing his words,” Kuroo said, taking the glass gratefully.

“On the contrary,” Terushima countered, pouring himself a glass of seltzer water. “I got a glowing review of you, Tetsurou. He has nothing but wonderful things to say. And as a bonus, he gave me your calling card should I ever want to request a date.” Terushima held up the business card bearing the escort company’s logo and his own name.

“Yeah,” Kuroo laughed. “You’ll definitely need that.”

Terushima shrugged. “Who knows. Maybe I’ll get lonely one night. Need the company of a messy haired man who’s really bad at being casual.”

“You cut me deep, Yuuji,” Kuroo said as he pulled the glass between his lips, sipping at the whisky.

“Though Ushijima is quite handsome as well, I might have to expand my horizons…”

“And I hear he’s in an open relationship too,” Kuroo added.

Terushima’s face scrunched up in displeasure. “I have a feeling that would mean inviting the redhead along, and probably the angry one too. They are decidedly not my type,” he said. “I suppose I’ll just have to be content with you.”

He leaned across the table, fingers wrapping around Kuroo’s tie and dragging him forward into a kiss. All Kuroo’s nervous energy evaporated at the touch of Terushima’s lips, the muffled hum, the gentle flick of his tongue. Kuroo’s fingers wrapped around the back of Terushima’s neck to tangle in the short hairs there. He wasn’t sure if the pulse against his fingers was his own or Terushima’s, but it was quickening rapidly.

“Tetsurou,” Terushima gasped as he pulled away all too soon for Kuroo’s liking.

“Sorry. Carried away,” Kuroo managed, his breath already coming in quick bursts. “I’ll get back to schmoozing the big spenders.”

“You could do that,” Terushima nodded. “Or… We could find a bathroom.”

If there was any question in Kuroo’s mind what Terushima meant, the glide of his tongue against his bottom lip flashing that dangerous piercing was all the answer Kuroo needed. And he didn’t have to think twice about it as he grabbed Terushima by the hand and dragged him away from the crowd.

“You hardly make it obvious what we’re doing,” Terushima pointed out as they practically ran for the back room. “I’m pretty sure half the room can tell.”

“Well let’s hope Bokuto can play a little louder because they’ll all be able to hear what we’re doing too,” Kuroo said.

Terushima’s laughter echoed off the walls of the hallway, and Kuroo couldn’t help but turn around and stare. His head was thrown back, eyes pinched shut, nose crinkled up and shoulders shaking.

It was definitely a view Kuroo could enjoy for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art show at the end is from [chapter 17 of my Bokuaka fic Rules](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6143563/chapters/15218077), if you need some context! Thank you so much for reading! Come hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thewiselearnfromhistory.tumblr.com)


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